river_kate | Entries tagged with life

I began a new painting today. It's of a stone covered bridge over water. There's something about the structure and simplicty of the old stone and the fluidity of the water that feels good to me. Also, I like the soothing muted colors. I used a small brush to paint thin lines over the pencil marks in blueish white and then used maroonish white for the frame-looking trim. Those are the most descriptive words I can come up with right now.

I am cautious, using little dabs of paint and working slow and dreamily. I'm grateful there isn't a life coach telling me to work big and bold, splash it on, paint what I see....blah, blah, blah. For those people in dynamic goal-setting mode, going for their dreams, that's great for them. I'm glad they're in the world; we need them.

That isn't where I'm at. I've leapt, been bold and splashed big in life. Now I'm gently stretching. Tentative. I'm painting how my inner landscape feels, not what I see. And you know what? I'm not sure what that means, but it's just fine.

When I recently watched "The Impressionists" (because of Richard Armitage) I noticed how those artist put huge globs of paint on their palettes, worked quickly and enthusiastically. But they were men, in a different place and a different time and doing something new.

I've also been using the chiropractic spine alignment pillow for 15 minutes the last two evenings. It hasn't been touched for a couple of years; I was told to use one for the rest of my life. That's a very modest and careful movement forward. I can tell by the little nerve sparks and twinges in my back that something is happening. My body is not wanting aggressive manipulation at this time. Again, thank goodness for no physical therapist. or chiropractor at this time.

There may be a day when I want the input of experts again but right now I need to hear my inner guidance and move forward as I can. In a way that doesn't fry me. When it's time for big, bold splashes I think I'll notice.

This afternoon I got out for a bit because I was craving lasagne. About a half hour after I got home it began to snow a lot and I'm so happy to be indoors with my Bailey's and coffee. I haven't been posting much because real life has been so much more interesting to me lately than being online.

I was kind of thinking about the last year and I realize lately that it was actually rather good. My apartment is organized and clean and that has been almost a thirty year struggle for me. I have began painting again. I have written and began editing a novel. I got out from under a sanity-sucking housing program without having to move. I have come to better terms with my health. This is the first year I haven't had a lot of deaths of people close to me. (The calendar has become a landmine of death anniversaries and ummm....I see a bit of what the future will be like.)

I have just recently become aware that it is the end of a decade also and have to notice that I am actually much better off than I was ten years ago. This decade has often been an unbelievable hell and I've also been through some amazing experiences that I never dreamed of. And such is life. Everything really is better than it was ten years ago. True, I have had a lot of losses but generally I believe that anything of real value to us isn't lost for eternity. My health is surely better than it was ten years ago, although then I didn't realize how challenged it was and that I would almost die several times. That might sound rather dramatic, but when one is going through it, it isn't such a big deal. At least it wasn't for me. About the only thing that isn't quite as good is my functioning, although that isn't such a loss to me. Most of my physical and mental energy was being demanded and exploited and unappreciated by a soul-sucking job . My best was not really available for my own benefit and I got the leftovers. Now, I have more of my physical and mental vitality under my own direction.

This evening I'm watching 'The Impressionists" because I really like to watch the very talented and very hot Richard Armitage. (I confess I have a huge crush on him.) The film is so beautiful and once again, I am very emotional as I watch it. I was fortunate to see an exhibit of Impressionist paintings from Europe several times while it was at the Denver Art Museum several years ago. I am so moved when I see this film and am so grateful that those artists did not give up. Really, really grateful.

I am feeling optimism about the coming year, decade and future of humanity. I wouldn't miss this time in our evolution for anything!

It rained so much during an-at-least-24-hour period that almost all the slushy snow is gone. Then it stopped and I got outdoors for a bit. Rain is kind of a big deal here in the high desert.

Earlier today, I wrote a letter to myself for the end of 2010 stating my hopes and intentions for the year. I chose today because I felt like it and because of the new moon in Sagittarius. Yes, that's what I really just said.

The way I live now is to usually make the most of each day and put most of my attention on what is working in my life. Last night I watched The Fellowship Of The Ring and The Two Towers and it was a wonderful escape. That sort of thing is what I tend to mention here. Not what goes on behind the scenes, which is sort of like me swimming the English Channel. I won't explain my story and why that is. Nor do I think there aren't a gazillion such stories on this planet. So, I breathe and I swim. And when I can rest, well I really make the most of it.

In my head, I think of entries almost daily and usually don't actually post them.

My bedroom is cleaned and organized now; it has never been in such great shape as is the rest of my apartment. I've struggled with clutter and disorganization for the last 25 years and I don't know how this happened but it's like a minor miracle. And to think, it's happening at the end of the year. Every year I feel miserable because once again, I'm a slob living in a mess. Not this year!

There's an astrologer, Kelly Rosano, that I get newletters from. She usually makes sense and is not annoying and I actually read the newsletters instead of deleting them. I don't follow astrological advice slavishly, but sometimes something sparks my interest and is helpful to me, which is proven to be true later. Now she says that the new moon is Sagittarius on the 16th is a great time to set one's intentions for the new year. She also says that Mars, the action planet, is going retrograde on December 20th until March 10, 2010, and that our patience and dedication over the next few months will pay off with energy and passion in the spring when it goes direct. Or something like that. Somehow, this is jiving with my weird internal calendar. I'm done with all my holiday stuff this year and have tidied up loose ends as much as possible and for me, it feels like the year is over. I'm also aware of what I want next year to be about.

That being said, I don't make resolutions anymore. They absolutely don't work for me. I've adopted choosing one word for the year, something I learned from Christine Kane's blog. Examples of words are courage, nurture, patience, etc. Well, I'm not saying mine here. My words (two) for 2009 worked rather well, but I think one word does it better.

It's been raining all day here, melting the snow and my body is sluggish and I feel peaceful.

There was more lovely weather here again today. This afternoon I walked to the library in the sunshine, wearing a light sweater for warmth. Lately I've been going to the library several times a week since going through the British DVD's so rapidly. Often, people open the heavy doors for me and I feel like sharing my policy on that.

I walk with a cane and I am wobbly, weak and shaky. The doors are heavy and I am interested in taking care of my muscles so generally I choose opening the doors over using the hand-pressed button that will open the door automatically. If necessary, I use the button or I ask someone for help if I need it. When people around me do not open the door for me or offer help, I do not take offense. I have seen other differently abled people become hostile and offended when help was offered to them. I do not expect people to be able to read my mind or my mood of the moment to know exactly what I am needing or wanting from them regarding assistance or independence from assistance. Clearly, I can see that it makes the people who do open the door for me feel very good. Especially the scruffy-looking young people. They positively beam with feeling-goodness sometimes. So, I always just accept the help and thank them. It is so easy.

In the protesting-too-much department, I don't interact with people much online mostly because it is extremely time-consuming. In a forum I participate in, someone recently began messaging me that they have "never lied to me." This was mentioned several times. O.K. Then came, "I am not a stalker" several times. Still, I didn't bite. Finally, it was revealed that the person had searched and found something else I had been doing online. I wasn't having a problem with it. Most of what I see online is being ignored by almost everyone else because they are busy putting stuff out there themselves. Anyway, it wasn't bothering me, but seems to make the person who is "not lying and not stalking" uncomfortable. The person is much younger than me and what I'm going to say is that I've found that when something makes me uncomfortable I usually simply cease doing it. It is never worth the creep factor.

This evening I have 22,500 words in my NaNoWriMo novel and am enjoying it. The characters are now letting me know what they want to say and do and that is delicious for me.

I am not finished with my miniature painting of a book and pillows in a window seat. I thought I would be finished but it is letting me know I am not. I can see it right now from where I am typing on my laptop.

It has been years since I've used an alarm clock and I usually stay in bed until I feel like getting up. This morning it was pleasant to wake up with the sun streaming in and it was an hour earlier because of the time change yesterday.

Yesterday, I slept most of the morning because I'd stayed up to start on my NaNo novel. As of right now, I have over 5,000 words. I am including random things I've noticed; today it was an early 1800's blue and white flower patterned, porcelain opium vial that my main character had found previously while hiding in the attic of the Old House at Collinwood. I haven't spent a lot of time looking at the forums of the NaNo website, but in the fan fiction "other genre" section, I seem to be the only one doing Dark Shadows fan fiction.

What have I been doing? I've stayed outdoors as much as possible when the weather is great. There have been the usual issues and crisis that have derailed me and laid me low. A couple of times I wanted to resign from the human race. I have distracted myself from dealing with the clutter in my apartment. But mostly, I have recently discovered the "Midsomer Murders" series from the BBC. Truly, I had never heard of it before. I don't have a television and have never had cable. One day, when I desperately wanted to watch something that I didn't already own, I found myself at the local record store looking at DVD's. I bought the first set and loved it. I went back and bought two more sets which is all they had. Then I ordered some from Amazon before I thought of the local library. They have them, although I have to keep checking to get the available ones.

I love the accents, love the houses and the scenery. England must be beautiful. Farms and animals are shown. The music is pleasant to listen to; no jarring, loud, abrasive rock music. No extended gun battles or car chases and only rare explosions. The main character has a good marriage and his daughter is functional and loves her parents. People generally have good manners and are not continually making smart, rude remarks to each other. Yes, they do kill each other sometimes.

The other DVD sets I watched recently were the first three seasons of "Weeds." I began watching because a good friend really likes them. I finished because I was interested to see what would happen. I dislike the people and almost everything about the show. Never mind why.

But now I am writing my novel.

It's raining and chilly here this evening. I feel I can enjoy staying indoors instead of needing to be out as though it will be the last pleasant weather ever. It was nice out earlier and twenty minutes after I returned home from running errands the weather changed for the worse. Then I fell into one of those deep naps.

Early this morning I did some loads of laundry. Being in an apartment building with a basement laundry room, my clothes sometimes need to finish drying while draped over chairs, etc. Later, being in and out of here doing errands, I'd come in and get a whiff of the basil-scented detergent I'm currently using. That is very comforting to me somehow.

After years of not doing so much creatively, I've recently gotten both energy and inspiration again. My careful health regimen went out the window and I was reminded of my youth. I don't believe that creative people have to be insane or addicts and sacrifice their health for their art, but I still have much room for improvement in having a sort of balance in my life. I have been lax in my sleeping and eating habits and neglected to take the supplements that are supporting my kidneys. It didn't seem to hurt me, though. Fewer aches and pains and small bouts of happiness and amusement occurred.

I'm working on the quilted wallhanging base for the 1904 items I am going to attach to it. When I was younger, it bothered me that I don't have good quilting skills and techniques and that I didn't care enough to learn and practice them. Now, I'm not letting that stop me. I know what I want to make and I'm going to call it...ummm...primitive.

My current 4 X 5 inch painting-in-progress and the supplies for it are taking up half of my kitchen table. I like to look at the underpainting.

I had my one-use-camera photos put on a picture disk and played with the images in the editing software. I can post them to my blogger account but posting here is beyond my computer skills and that's all right with me.

I'm stocking up on snacks for NaNoWriMo which begins in less than three weeks and hopefully, I will still feel ready on November first. I've been using my mental energy on paperwork having to do with farming, crops and insurance, which is vital but not interesting.

Trying not to rely on caffeine so much, I've been playing around with techniques from a book on auras. I don't see them but have been successful working with mine somewhat. The current book goes into how the astral body supports the physical body and shares information that is new to me. One of the areas I'd like to transform is my tendencies for mental sluggishness. Actually, it takes awhile to recover from mental fatigue.

These are the things I'm being and doing these days in a kind of wobbly way. Now that I'm not dying I want to get some plans going.

Yesterday evening I went to First Thursday in my city and looked at art, talked to artists and ate non-gluten-free cookies while doing so. The weather has been so lovely lately that I've been unable to make myself stay indoors. Today I ate breakfast on a penthouse rooftop and then spent most of the day outside. If it rains this weekend maybe I will get some grounding things done inside.

Most of the artists I chatted with yesterday were kind. I tend to repeat myself, not make sense and not understand everything that is being said to me. The more compassion and patience I have with myself the more others seem to, but not everyone is up for it.

Several artists are using donated space in empty downtown buildings and one of them has a set-up where people can make brooches from found objects. She has objects there in case people don't bring their own. This afternoon I gathered some items in my apartment and hope to assemble them and then attach them to the little screens she uses. (She plans on doing this again.) I have two old pins that I found when cleaning out Mom's house, a dyed pearl earring, a gauzy gold jewelry pouch, and a cancelled stamp from the 1904 St. Louis World's Fair. I will laminate it in addition to laminating an icon I'll print out. The icon is of Barnabas Collins in his exotic silk dressing gown sitting in the Old House looking through photo albums of his ancestors. I intend to attach these to an old crocheted doily which I'll then attach to fabric left over when I made quilted Christmas ornaments years ago. This will involve some sewing and ironing. I actually have an iron and ironing board and when this is all done I hope to stitch it to a small quilted wallhanging. Hopefully I'll be able to get the needle threaded.

I signed up for 2009 NaNoWriMo today and am really excited. I have been gathering snacks for my pantry and need to watch some DVD's for the 1875 timeline which will be part of my story. (I am doing a Dark Shadows fanfiction with both original and canon characters.) It is amazing how I can forget about my aches and pains when I focus on these things.

I did the underpainting of a small 5"X7" canvas board the other day and that seems to have satisfied me for the time being. By now I have forgotten everything I was taught in high school thirtyseven years ago. In a book I looked up how to clean and care for my brushes and was careful not to look at techniques so I can see how I do this. With the tremors in my hands it could be interesting.

It is fascinating how I've once again gotten to that place where I want to throw off everything about how I should be doing things. So much of what I've been told about myself is just plain wrong.

The paintings I really want to do are of the black and white photos of my ancestors from around the turn of the century. Many are professionally photographed indoors; the women have long dresses on and the men have long beards. Once, long ago, I could draw well and can probably learn to do so again. The portraits would be painted in the neutral colors of the photos and then I'd like to add bright flowers in vases and other little objects that I like.

Much of what I am clearing out in this lifetime, I once thought was from past lives. Feeling the experiences, I knew they weren't mine. Now I believe a lot of it is in my DNA from the experiences that my genetic line lived through. Not everyone is going through this but I have spoken with enough others who are, that I have some understanding of this little project. I keep hearing, "There is nothing wrong with you. You aren't doing anything wrong." This feels right to me most of the time now although it is contrary to appearances.

It might appear that my life really sucks but I am focusing on the freedoms I have now. After being twisted into a pretzel for years trying to be who and what I was dictated to be, I now find myself being able to be myself and yet survive. That feels great.

Something like my turning a corner has occured. For the last three or four years I have had to coax myself to get out of bed and do something rather often. Now, I am encouraging myself to rest more, although I am still relatively unproductive. When I allow my body to rest for several days, I've noticed that it always pays off. Always do I get a gift from it. My body, after all, is doing most of the work in my physical healing and I've come a long way in supporting what it's doing.

Anyway, recently I keep coming across the saying about what is true in the morning of one's life is not true in the afternoon of one's life. Certainly, I am on a different platform now and have learned not to judge myself for the results of doing what I thought best in the previous decades. It's like ceasing to tell yourself you were a loser for falling down so much when you were learning to walk.

This afternoon I actually got to spend some time in a lofty place of seeing how great I've done in the last few years, which I admit looked like a total train wreck. Finally, I can move on from second guessing myself, crying over spilt milk and lost opportunities. There was actually a whole body rush of information telling me that my great windfall of that time, now lost, was there to balance the truly horrendous things I went through and it was there to help me choose to stay in this life, not to be my only form of sustenance for the rest of it. My seeming limitations are helping me refine what I truly value now. I got a sense of how important it is to look for the gift and the best of any situation that appears restrictive or intolerable, without repressing the shadows or denying the reality of the challenge. I am aware of the wisdom of making the most of the free time and solitude that I have now instead of focusing on what is lacking. For me it did require solitude and lots of space from the outside world.

The documentary "It Might Get Loud" is one of the most impressive and meaningful things I've come across in the outside world recently. I also thoroughly enjoyed it. While it was interesting to learn about Jack White, who seems authentic to me even though I don't resonate with his views, and while the parts about The Edge were interesting too, what really amazed me was Jimmy Page. Jimmy Page is a god. It was wonderful to see the joy he still has when he plays guitar and it appears he is doing well with his current stage in life. He makes a remark about not knowing if he played it or if it played him. (I'm not sure if the word he used was played or chose or had.) But he said he had fun.

He is speaking, of course, of the happenings of his youth regarding his music career. Often things seem to randomly happen to us and then at some point it is the afternoon of one's life and things do appear different.

At this point, if anything would want to "have me", I'm sure I would better negotiate for more comfort and more of a sense of my own choice and pace instead of being used by the energies floating around in the universe.

The last few days I've had more of a sense of the rightness about where I'm at and how to make the best of it. It's good to be here in this place.

What a wonderful week this has been. The weather was often perfect, I had more energy and less pain than I've had in a long time and there was interesting things to do. Language had very little to do with anything and I haven't been in word mode for awhile.

The days I chose to walk along the river happened to be when the crowds were doing other things and it was great to have that space. I tried out three new places to eat instead of the same old ones where I usually go, where they know I'm easy-going and a good tipper and now don't really give me good service anymore.

My dining room table is actually cleared off and I have my paints and some canvas panels stacked there now with ideas for six paintings. This is after I haven't painted for about thirty-five years.

I am doing a bit of organizing in my apartment so I can find things better and feel more comfortable. When acquaintances ask me questions it takes a little longer to answer and I feel somewhat surprised that I am required to speak.

It's odd but I am enjoying reading and am doing O.K. with understanding what I read. Right now I am reading a book by Dianne Day that I found at the library. It takes place in San Francisco during the earthquake of 1906 and is a mystery with a female main character. I'd never heard of the author and she's written seven books with this character which is wonderful news for me. They may have them all at the library, if not I see they are on Amazon.

So, for right now I'm not having the usual low-grade anxiety. Maybe others are feeling this way too. When I go to the usual places online it looks like people are vanishing.

It's still too hot where I live. It would be cool enough to do things in the morning but that's when my body wants to sleep. The last few days I've been way not feeling well and that usually causes me to get back to basics.

Most of us know that it's good to love ourselves as we are, not to compare ourselves to others and to accept where we're at while moving towards something better. Easier said than done. I was able to practice it for a few hours this afternoon as I slowly roused from an unpleasant place. As I fumbled in the kitchen I practiced being very patient with my clumsiness and how I did things. As I took a shower and moisturized my face I was actually able to be caring and non-critical of my body for a short time. Maybe it was easier because I spent a few days alone and had tuned out other people, I don't know. It just felt that I had enough space to briefly pay some attention to getting to know myself and really look in all my weirdness, quirkiness, quaintness, warts and all. After all, there never has been and never will be another just like me and it would be sad to get through this life and never get to know myself.

Yesterday I did manage to get out and see a matinee of "Julie and Julia". I enjoyed it. After feeling numb and apathetic, I laughed a lot and cried a little. It was lovely looking at all that food and watching someone do a project that I will never, ever do. My favorite thing of the whole film was watching Julia's relationship with her husband. Oh, to have a husband like Paul Child. I came home and looked up some information on their marriage and of course ran into criticism of the Julie part of the film. Maybe she was using Julia and being selfish and narcissistic. I just wanted to enjoy the film.

As usual, several big names in the media have done things that everyone seems to have opinions about but I noticed I don't get worked up about things like that anymore. I don't think I'm going too far with that but I am really in more of a live-and-let-live-mode these days. It's just that I'm finding that I can easily do without so many things and activities.

I just began a Victorian mystery by a youngish writer named Charles Finch. It's called "A Beautiful Blue Death." I am so pleased that there are those of the younger generation continuing to write books I enjoy reading. I also love Deanna Raybourn. I wait and wait for her books and then read them in a day or two when I get a new one.

Here's a very short story that I wrote on another site that I abruptly quit visiting about six months ago. The story is true and has great meaning for me:

It was a mid-March evening in Colorado. I was exhausted, having just gotten off work from my retail job. I'd barely missed my bus and had an hours wait for the next one. I could either sit on the bench in the cold or loiter on my tired feet and legs in the supermarket next to my place of employment. I took turns between these two choices.

Feeling terrified about my credit card debt, I had been watching every penny since the beginning of the year. I noticed the supermarket had plastic containers of wilted winter pansies on sale in front of the store. They didn't look like much but I splurged and chose the purple ones.

They sat on my kitchen table for a few days. I planted them in a too-big pot with some used potting soil and placed them on a small table on the porch. When a blizzard came a few weeks later I worried but the pansies looked magical and glorious in all the white snow. When I would return home I could see them a block away; the color looked so vibrant. They also flourished in the summer's hot and dry weather.

One day I pressed one of the blooms in waxed paper and put them under a pile of books in my extremely cluttered apartment. In late July, my sister wrote that she wasn't feeling well and was losing a lot of weight. When I sent her a card, I thought of the pressed pansy, managed to locate it and included it. My sister's cancer diagnosis came too late for anything to be done effectively. A kind soul paid for my plane ticket to visit her for a weekend in November to say goodbye.

Walking around her small town while she napped, I kind of checked out the lay of the land. After Christmas, with all the crap involved in retail, I knew I had to take a leave from my job and stay with her. She was told she had three weeks to live at that time but she wanted to live to see another spring. She had a ceramic robin on her nightstand and a little bowl with a rock, a feather and the pressed pansy I had sent months before and she daydreamed about her connection with nature. She lived to see the robins and the peonies and the magnolias and I stayed with her for the last five months of her life.

Taking the train back to Colorado in late June, I shipped six boxes of my winter clothes, stuff I had needed while staying with her and some things she'd had that I wanted to keep. The boxes arrived before I did and were waiting on the porch. At the time I didn't know how serious my long-term environmental poisoning was; I just knew I felt exhausted. Three of the boxes stayed unpacked for quite some time. I couldn't reconnect with the community where I'd been living; I was a changed person.

A year later I moved further west. I happened to get the the moving company from hell and that's enough said about that. By the time my belongings arrived two weeks later than they'd said they would, I wasn't functioning well. It took a long time to unpack and get my new place in any kind of order.

I have a lot of things. I'm aware that according to Feng Shui, dried flowers have dead energy and it's not so great to have dried things around. I get that. The little pressed pansy survived all the moving and drama. Now, almost five years later after I impulsively purchased the wilted pansies, the pressed bloom is in a pretty dish in an antique curio cabinet that belonged to my ancestors. Sometimes when I'm feeling fragile, insignificant and non-contributing, I sometimes think of the pressed flower there. When I look at it, it's a touchstone, like reading a book. It's life was meaningful and it did great work.

The last several hours have been spent in clearing out other blogs and journals. One account is deleted and two have had all their posts deleted except for a few photos in one and the following poem in another. It was written on April 19th of this year. It is only the second or third poem I have ever written without being forced to for school. I can barely read poetry, it is so, so intimate.

Sometimes You Let

Sometimes you let
people sit in the dark
or in the dimness
stewing with their secrets
and their old talismans,
their formulas,
failed alchemy,
thinking
that they know it all,
feeling
that it's all crashing down
and wondering why.
Shoring up their persona
brittle, crumbling slats
of decaying picket fence
and cool arrogance
to KEEP YOU OUT!
You are not at all
what they imagined
a friend would look like.
The tower of Babel
tries to be insidious
and you
keep on moving
towards what's juicy
and towards the light.

The last few days I've been a recluse, reading, napping, snacking and working on my novel. Sometimes it just feels awful to be out among people. I don't know what I'd be doing if I didn't have the novel to focus on and keep my mind in somewhat working order. Yesterday I checked the word count in the document I'm preparing for my little vanity Blurb book and it was less than 9,000. I'm recalling how daunting the 50,000 word requirement to win NaNoWriMo can be.

This morning I was having some of those really strong snapshots and films from my past. It's like I could close my eyes and be there. Some of it makes me curious because one event is about something someone else may have done, yet it's like I carry the burden of guilt. Just as I cleaned up the kitchen full of dirty dishes a little while ago, I could use some of my energy clearing tools to let go of some of this debris. It's something I'll need to coax myself into doing but this day is by no means over.

When I stayed with a friend in Hawaii two years ago I adjusted to the ways of living out in the bush. Water for showering was the rainwater caught in catchment tanks. For drinking water, we took big glass jugs and drove to areas where they could be filled with city water from taps that were out at the edges of the parking stations that were there for that purpose. There was a compost area in the backyard, an area to burn things and the rest of what they call rubbish was collected and taken to a huge landfill. You'd drive up and wait your turn to throw your rubbish down huge chutes.

During the last few years I've let go of many people who used me to dump their problems and unpleasant emotions on. I was raised to allow that and as an empath it's been a challenge for me to learn skills in dealing with this sort of thing. When my health began to be my number one priority it became even more important; I had no choice if I wanted to stay alive. Some people just don't want to let the dynamics change at all.

One day when I was carefully explaining my need to take better care of myself to a dumper, I saw a vision in my mind of a huge landfill with a sign on the barred and locked wrought-iron gate saying that the landfill was closed. There was a another sign set away from the gate that said "future home of Kate's abundant garden of friendship". That helped me get through the conversation. One of the tools I use to clear my aura is imagining a violet flame burning away debris. A few days after this conversation, I saw a huge violet flame burning up the rubbish in my imaginary landfill. That's what I'd see for awhile and then I gradually forgot about it. This morning I saw a lovely park and gardens with benches, flowers and little nooks for having tea. There aren't people there yet but this is way better than a rubbish heap.