Pink Feldspar: 5 years from now and scaffolding

First section from 5 years ago.

When I first came back out public I had a 5-year plan, and so far it's going ok, just on a slower track than I originally envisioned, but a much richer and more vibrant track, so I'm good with it. It hit me today that I haven't thought much beyond that, and here I am already past the 5 year milestone.

So- Where do I want to be 5 years from NOW? This is a game I've played with myself for a couple of decades, and it actually works because it makes me think about priorities and goals and stagnation and stuff like that. I got the idea from a survey I did once.

1) What were you doing 10 Years Ago?
Wow, the nursing school year. I remember the big mystery over who was smuggling mummified cats out of lab, and practicing catheterizing fake people. My favorite word was auscultate.

2) 5 Years Ago?
I crashed into the fabled midlife review crap I used to ridicule others for. Can’t wait to find out why old people are saying “60 is the new 40″… Sounds like a very loaded statement. Let’s see how gracefully we can hit brick walls every other decade. Heads up to the mid-30′s crowd.

3) 1 Year Ago?
Wasted out of my skull on medication just to be able to walk, heartbreaking end to an awesome friendship, discovering the joys of the empty nest, and plunging headlong into youtube fanaticism.

The year I took a break from the internet I did a lot of deep thinking about that stuff in reverse- where do I want to be a year from now, 3 years from now, 5 years from now kind of thing. I stopped at 5 because I really couldn't see past it. So many things in my life have abruptly changed or cut off and you never know who is next on the ol' chopping block and all the changes things like that entail, so I didn't force it.

I've done plenty of looking back and assessing how far I've come posts. I haven't really done any going forward that far posts. Part of looking and planning forward is assessing right now, and I think I pretty much assess right now to death, don't I? I'm done with physical therapy unless something changes, I'm continuing to self monitor with a medical team, OH, Scott's job finally sold so there's a little bit of a snip in the annual income, kiddos are in my house, and we're dealing with even more hard stuff, so this post is more an exercise in focus than actual planning, but this is a good way to lay down a foundation and set up scaffolding for that.

Ok this is now.

So Imma do that real fast before I get back to something else.

1) What were you doing 10 Years Ago?
10 years ago was about 3 months before I came back out public on twitter and in a blog. I had never intended to be public again, but something happened and I keenly felt like it was important that I get my butt back out here and Say Stuff. In the meantime though, before that something happened, I was floating deep in youtube while I was still recovering from massive systems fail.

Ha, while I'm looking for other pix I'm running into some lost treasures. No way I can link back now since twit canceled that account.

Lol, here's the vid list I'm so fond of that I had on that post. Sorry, used to size them into gigantic so they'd fill up my laptop.

Where were we? I'm apparently not finding that old meme I had wondering if Finch (Person of Interest) was a timelord

Always have to share this when I run into it. Yes, I was there, that really happened around 2009.

That time I was quoted on an official website.

From 2008. This guy doesn't pose for pix.

Here we go, this is from early 2012, dunno if I'll find that other thing I want or not.

Hold the phone, 2007.

I'm blaming Pinky for this jaunt off into neverland. Feel free to actually click this and go get really lost.

*facepalm*

Yes, we know, hi, good to see you, can we just find that meme now. All this excitement in my head.

Stop.

I'm done, just tell me when you find it.

Wo, I thought I'd lost this.

I used to get contacted just about daily for several years until I finally got on twitter and then people just followed me around. Some of my longest lurkers go back many years. I think the saddest one was someone in the military trying to cover a significant mental health issue and desperately asking for help. After many more years' experience 'depression blogging', my advice to everyone is come clean, be honest about who you are and what you need help with, and find ways to do what you enjoy at work around that. You may not be able to be a field operator or a high pressure triage assessment type in whatever job, but you may still be the absolutely right person for something more specific that allows you to fit in. Anyway, back in 2008 I had this disclaimer up.

That email is still valid but I check it maybe 2-3 times a year... I'm horrible.

FOUND IT!!!!!! Ok, THIS 👇 is what I had up on my Lexx blog while I had the Lexx stuff closed to the public. This is what I was literally doing 10 years ago.

Ok, now we can move on.

2) 5 Years Ago?
2017 was a big year. Unfortunately, most of that was hashed on my Pinky twitter, and that is all gone now. I do have a few screenshots of the hashtag games I was playing but I'm not going to drag them all out.

I was also ramping up my game to eventually become moderator and then techmoderator because I was quick on the screenshots.

I miss my place so bad sometimes. You don't just live in the same digs for years and then not miss it.

3) 1 Year Ago?
Right about a year ago I was canceled off my named twitter account and locked out of my named dotcom wordpress. A year later, I am not only canceled out of Pinky twitter now, but Google literally wiped most of my 20 year web presence out of their search engines.

That was fun and depressing. I think I mentioned scaffolding though. Just a heads up, I assessed back into physical therapy today and I'm a kinda floaty on a little bit of tramadol, so I guess this is getting pretty long.

But here is some more of that old post because it might be important.

I have entire music collections probably worth some money that have been engulfed. Everything ever done by the old guys like Bach, music from all over the world, a collection I dreamed of growing up and to this day have never enjoyed. I don't have the kind of life that allows me to have my own record collection out where I can get to it in my own house where no one will destroy it or move it or bother it, and it has sat for years down in the dark with the spiders. To get it all out now and listen to it- I'm trying to guesstimate how long it would take to listen to the entire collection in the few hours a day I actually get to be home, and that is usually interrupted somehow. 2 months? I'm guessing at least 2 months to listen to all that. Maybe 3. Chopin, Schupert, Rachmaninov... Yes, all the Beethoven, all the everything you ever heard of. I own it. I've talked before in the night was smashy about how I don't get to run my house the way I want.

dragging brain back into focus

Actually, that all reminds me of a very realistic dream I had a kind of long time ago that stuck with me and helped me let go of fighting for all that stuff.

I was a very old woman, at least for the time, and fashionably modern. I had all the latest in clothing, home decor, and lived very comfortably. In the dream I just knew this, I didn't see a lot of it. In the dream I was dressed to leave, in a sitting room detailed with brocades and dark striped wallpaper, velvet covered mahogany stuffed chairs, patterned prints and lots of lace, and I was dressed to the hilt right down to the latest dress boots, gloves, and hat.

I was looking around at all of it. I had to leave it. Something had happened (what?) and I had to leave all of it, and I detested the future that lay before me. Someone else would have all my nice things (the grand piano! the drapes! the imported carpeting!!!), and I was galled that I would be forced to step down into squalor. I kept looking around the room, cherishing the finery, cherishing my 'place' in the world, cherishing the quiet wealth dripping all around me. Cherishing my buffer against all the dirty world outside.

A carriage was coming to pick me up. Men would come into the house and escort me into the carriage, and I would leave this place and never come back. MY things. MY life. Another family would come in and mess up all MY stuff like a bunch of heathens. But I felt fine, even smug. In the dream I thought and felt all these things, and I felt smug that they would never take them away from me, never really force me to leave.

In the dream it was about sitting in that posh room and waiting. No one else was with me, no words were spoken, but deep down I knew that was me, and I watched myself like that, an ugly soul inside a beautiful home. Not one thought was wasted on remembering a person, not one moment of cherishing was about someone who was loved, not even a pet. All that went on while the clock ticked was looking around at the wealth and feeling smug that they couldn't take me from it. I realized after waking it was because I had overdosed on something and timed it for when the carriage would be arriving. They would walk in to find me dead, which would create a whole other fuss and stir, and technically I'd never have been forced to leave my house. Bah on them!

O_O I know, right. What a biatch. Well, I'm not sure what's up with the vividness of it and it really feeling like it was me unless possibly that's a past life or someone else's memories floating around in the night or a remote viewing kind of a dream, which I've done a few times, but whatever it was, I feel very strongly like I dreamed it for a very good reason, and that's NOT to make the same mistake again. In this life now I'm still very drawn to nicer things (not like I wish I had them but more like I feel that it's familiar) but shun them almost with repulsion and live a mostly immaterial life. I'm in a nice house, yes, but most of it is filled with hand-me-down furniture and decor, and not much of it matches. I'm not house-proud. I could (and have) easily lived in trailers and much smaller houses, and even slept on floors and in a car. I just have this really strong feeling that wealth is a trap for the mind, and that it ruins what we are supposed to be doing here.

I think the missed point is that every person is important. Every person is a wealth of potential. Every person is why we're all here, and it's the only common denominator in every other possible variable in our existences. To shun other people for things is to completely miss the point of existing as life. We may be autonomous beings, but we are still an interwoven part of each other in so many ways we can't even imagine.

I have a list of past life memories that I've never openly talked about. All I can say is, once you start REMEMBERING, you're pretty much waking the hell up. I couldn't honestly tell you if our lives are simulations in a machine or 'real' or what, but I've written in other places about all experiences being real to our brains. The past life memories are very detailed, and in some of them I was a pretty ugly person, behavior-wise. When you start remembering all the ways you've lived and behaved, you realize the word 'compassion' isn't just a word. It's not just an ideology. It's not just a religious expectation. Compassion is a soul-deep understanding and caring about another person, other people, humanity. Once you realize compassion, you solve the big riddle of why we are here, the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Without compassion this is all just a story in a book. With compassion, we are all family. We are all equally invested in the outcome.

And that is what brings me back around to scaffolding.

In my last post I was bringing up the idea of a matrix inside a matrix inside a matrix and so on, like nesting dolls. I have always like the word matrix. My favoritist college algebra thing was plotting matrices. Click these next to go check them out if you want, but it's not necessary. Mostly I'm just preparing you for a leap of thought.

As a real world example, I have constructed a matrix of blogs that I fondly refer to as #pinkyblog, right. They are visually expressed constructs of my life over time and can be correlated to each other and then one can come to conclusions about what was happening in my life for real behind all that wording. Some of my longer lurkers can literally feel when I'm sad, for instance, even when I'm being silly and playing around. You can read my life for free, go on my journey with me at your convenience, laugh with me at something, hug me in your head for something else, and what I've done is construct a bubble where we all meet up. We don't see each other coming and going, but in this construct, this matrix I've built over time, we are with each other in my head.

And I have brought you all on this journey to share something very important with you now. It's no accident that you are here. I have been learning how to synch our minds. We can all do this. We look back at family photos together, or we share experiences together like going to an amusement park or attending a funeral. Every shared thing we do is synching us. My blogs are like a scaffolding for a shared world.

Game servers are like this, too. They are constructed to synchronize players into a shared existence. We be with each other and do things together even if we are actually far apart and have never met. TV shows are like that, too, especially now with twitter. Live tweeting TV shows is a shared experience with people all over the world who are synchronized for a short time.

Everything in our reality that we call Earth is about synching. Even when we are alone we are synching with our environment around us. We are 'in place' with our bodies in the earth matrix. Think how many ways we synch with others in our minds. There many ways we do this, even if we are just reading what someone else wrote or looking at artwork someone else created.

Our lives on Earth are about synching. That is the one thing on our deathbeds that we judge success and failure on. For example, I'll share this thing. This is where 'what was I doing 10 years ago' really kicks in.

I've actually blogged quite a bit about my struggles growing up with my mom, and some of her struggles emotionally coping with the world telling her she wasn't a good mom when the question of me came up. I even dealt a little with the loss here and there. But the first time I really came out about my personal relationship as an aspie kid with my mom in public was in a survey on August 18, 2012.

Has anyone ever made you cry just by saying I love you?

This has way deeper significance when you know that person literally cannot say anything else and hasn’t been able to have a conversation with you in over two years, and you know it’s getting close, and they look you in the eyes and tell you they love you, and you know they mean it, and there are millions of unspoken words that come with it that let you know everything is forgiven and nothing is in the way any more. Yes, you go home and bawl your eyes out. ****Ok, I let this one sit awhile, and I keep coming back and reading it, and it comes across weird and creepy, so I’ll clarify a little. My mom died a long slow death from several big strokes that left her very deficit both physically and cognitively. I was not close to my mom growing up, felt rather picked on continually for what none of us realized was Asperger’s, never felt forgiven, and never really felt loved, although I’m sure she never meant for that to happen. When she started having strokes there were so many unfinished emotions that never got resolved, and despite the relief I felt that I no longer had to tolerate her unceasing judgement, years of taking care of her and watching her slowly spiral down were anguishing. I learned over that time that nothing means more to our lives on this planet than resolving our relationship issues before it’s too late. There is just nothing else comparable to the real meaning of life that goes round and round your head, if you don’t get those solved you feel like you failed somehow at why you were here. During her last couple of years I was seeing a psychologist for help with my Asperger’s and social skills and whatnot, really eye opening stuff for me, and I began to realize and understand what it must have been like for *her* to raise a child like me. She’s not a bad person, but without her own social safety net and support system, she was lost and flying blind, and made ever so many mistakes. My memories of my childhood are fairly tragic in places. By the time she reached her last summer, I was reaching a place where I could let all that go, where I wanted God to erase it all and just make it ok, because we really had made it through our stuff, and I no longer wanted or needed validation or recompense or some kind of understanding or forgiveness. I just loved her and wished I could go back in time and give her lots of hugs and tell her everything was going to be all right. And that is the magic. The last time I saw her awake and somewhat responsive, and I guess this sometimes happens when people with brain problems near death seem to snap back into momentary coherency, she suddenly locked eyes with me and grinned so big like she was not only glad to see me (that had never happened in my life), but like we had a big fun secret just between the two of us. And for the first time in my life, as well, especially with the Asperger’s, I locked eyes right back at her and grinned right back, and every bit of it was “I love you, too”, no hesitation, no baggage. That moment, as in a previous question further up, was PERFECT. And then I went home and bawled my eyes out, because one moment was all we got. She went blank and never looked at me again, and died a couple of months later.

I feel my mom and I somehow successfully navigated 'our stuff'. I have another sibling who mentioned never getting closure and she still struggles with a deep sadness after all these years.

Our Earth or universe or whatever is a scaffolding for something very important. Our root matrix is our House together in this existence of experiences. Whether what we think we see is a hologram or not isn't even important. We can argue flat or round earth all day long and it absolutely does not matter if you spend your life hating and judging and snarking and poking and belittling and usurping and - you get my point.

Scaffolding is a basic structure. Scaffolding is what holds everything in place. Are you ready to make another leap?

Our society has scaffolding all around it, holding it up. Our lives are structured by scaffolding, our thoughts are structured by another kind of scaffolding. Everything we do is based on layers and layers of scaffolding, from physical to intellectual to emotional to spiritural. Some of the scaffolding is so tight that there's barely any wiggle room. We feel stuck, we sometimes feel hopeless, because the structures around us make us go against who we feel we are or what we believe or who we ought to love or what we wish we could be doing. And feeling stuck really sucks. I know this because I've been a super spoonie most of my life. I'm regaining freedom again and it's awesome, but I'm still much more stuck than many people around me. So I understand what feeling stuck feels like. How do I cope with that?

I restructure.

I remodeled some of the scaffolding.

I went inside myself and discovered how all the scaffolding falls off and then came back to share this is a real thing that all of us can do.

When we all reach a place in time where we can all do this, everything about this earth will change. Everything ugly will start healing. Everything painful will start healing. Everything wrong will start healing. But it takes all of us. We can't just leave people behind with 'sucks for them' attitudes, because that isn't compassion. That isn't even woke.

I am a very patient person. I've spent a lifetime reaching this moment to share these things from this point of view. Why is this important? Because the more of us that can truly realize compassion, the faster the world will heal. Just giving out instructions on how to meditate isn't doing it. Just telling people on twitter to love each other isn't doing it. We need to be in each others' heads with our own hearts and souls, and we cannot do that until we realize compassion.