i took the valium at midnight so it should be peaking right now. i’m afraid it’s not working. the enormous bags are packed and sitting on the floor here in the office. we fly today. i was going to start at noon with one valium so it would peak when the plane takes off at fourthirty. i’m trying not to worry and i’m trying to sleep.
the cats are racing around – quite nervous. wanda barreled up to the top of the cat tower and, in an entirely new exhibition, is clawing at the window. outside, i don’t see stars, so it must be foggy. at least the old san francisco fog feels like an good friend, come to say, twelve hours away, it’s ok.
whoops; just went to the window and the faint summer stars confirmed i was wrong. ok… but it seems the wind has died down… ok?
aww; there’s the first morning birdsong. that’s nice. that one’s true. that bird is my friend, sent specifically to me, i’m sure, to be singing that flying really can be quite fun.
when eric the hypnotherapist was talking with me somewhere between five and six in the morning this morning about the flying and my relationship, i remembered the spiders.
he wanted me to remember how i am supportive to others and he mentioned that while i am outwardly fearful, others may be even more fearful and just not outwardly so. i remembered the woman whom i could see outside the airplane window running hysterically from the plane that we later flew safely to belfast. i remembered how i was calm next to her and she said yeah, it’s because you have a terrified woman next to you and i felt ashamed that i was stronger or that indeed it took someone more freaked – more fearful – than i to make me feel better.
then we talked of parents and children and how things that might normally terrify you as a parent you totally suck up and react calmly to for the child. then came the spiders. this was the first time i thought i could possibly understand what this singular recurring dream symbol was. in the dreams, though, the spiders and other insects are giant and absolutely terrifying. back in reality, at susan’s day care center in sacramento, when i must have been but a teenager working through the summer, the small children, very cute small children as they always are, with socks dangling almost completely off the entire foot while they run across the carpet, with consistently snotty noses, with bubble-shaped diapered bottoms, asleep in front of sesame street, replete at once with wonder and with fears and insecurities we used to understand but with more trust than we ever learned to lose later on, there they were playing in the yard and there i was with them.
aaaaaaack! there was a spider. i have and had a fear of spiders, but at that moment, i did not. i told the children not to worry, i told them about life and that you don’t need to squish it and that in fact it does not want to hurt you, and i let it crawl over my hand. afterwards all the children wanted to hold it and tried to pet it.
did i run away screaming after that? did the children grow up carelessly handling dangerous black widows, get stung, and die?
i don’t know.
eric the hypnotherapist drew parallels between my work and my fears (and my relationship) which i secretly resented since i don’t think work should play that valuable a role in my psyche, and yet it does make a fun kind of sense that i test software and i try to break and crash, yes crash, things.
he suggested all the testing is for preparing things to indeed fly allright. maybe these aren’t evil omens, but a way to take care of myself, or of others, and of others, or and of both and all and the others and …………….
then he said i wouldn’t hear the birds on the plane but i heard the birds outside the window as the sun began to sneak up on us.
for the past
couple of nights i slept well again for the first time in recorded memory – without waking up at three or four in the morning. we’re ramping up to the vacation and for me to the planes. friday was bad, was the angry day in the whole world, was suicide bombs, murdering princes, fighting at cha cha cha, boiling over, paranoia, fear, hurt, on three hours sleep from the sad thursday evening.
i would like to be able to channel the frightening passage of dark plane images right on by into a peaceful place, and i’m trying to gather my wits about me to do this. to not feel like everything’s an omen, and a bad one at that. to not dwell in the awful areas.
because i really look forward to the markets of provence.
rudy, i think of touching the side of the plane while embarking most every day now; i watched blake long and far down into the doorway towards burbank from oakland yesterday, and wondered if she was touching the door. i visited amigoingdown.com and learned that are chances are one in about a billion.
but it’s not the normal that i fear. this is all about the freak sad shocking thing. the overwhelming need to make sure my family knows i love them, to write my will, and to apologize in advance.
the image of the woman stranded by the roadway visits me again and i try to explain it to leanne but i don’t understand it myself and i wish i did and i certainly wish she did. the tire is flat. she had her best dress on. it is starting to rain. the colors are running.
i decided it’s time to get a tattoo or maybe two. maybe a cow; maybe certainly a cow. and saturn; oh saturn.
the giant foghorn at four in the morning. okay dammit; so if it is an omen, let it be an omen i love. i love the fog.