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The Waking
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I cannot go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree, but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
--Theodore Roethke
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Joy's Updates - Straight from the Horse's Mouth.
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Sunday, November 30, 2003
Saturday Night Fever (couldn't resist)
Fever dreams are surreal and tiring. When I was a child, I had recurring dreams when I ran a fever. Doctors made house calls then, and the only one we had in our town lived two houses away from us. He asked Mother how I was doing, and she told him better after she got the rocks out of my bed. She humored me like that because they were very real and heavy. Another time I dreamed the children on my pajamas were too loud and kept making noise. Somehow she got them quiet. The dream that I'd have over and over, though, was one in which I had to follow this maze on paper which was made up of all kinds of lines like spaghetti. Washington and Napoleon and their troops were riding toward each other from a distance, and I had to sort out the maze to keep them from going to battle. It was all on me and very stressful. The dream would switch from the maze to their riding closer and closer toward each other. Usually I woke up before the battle began but not always. Then the soldiers would be on horseback and fight each other with swords.
Last night I dreamed during my fever which is ranging between 101-102 about a Hispanic Thanksgiving cooking contest. There were subcategories and all kinds of rules and lots and lots of people cooking, yelling, and speaking to the judges. One of the groups was Ritchie Valens's family. They claimed to have proof that he and Donna (high school sweetheart who inspired "Oh, Donna") got married and that she was four months pregnant when he died in the plane crash. I was arguing with my dream while dreaming it and kept saying to myself that wasn't true. Their daughter Donna (how unoriginal to name her that) spoke and read a song to the people there. During the dream I said that was Buddy Holly whose wife was pregnant the day the music died and that Ritchie was only 17, and they were barely able to see each other. See, even in fever-induced dreams, I know my pop culture trivia. Someone commented that Valens was played by an aging Jack Nicholson in the movie La Bamba, so I had to argue once again since Lou Diamond Phillips hardly qualifies. It was a very weird dream.
All the food was too much - all kinds of dishes and menus and entries. The judges announced so many winners of various categories that I almost didn't care who won even though Brian was in one of the groups who entered. I never found out how his group did.
9:26:00 AM
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