Submit to Delusions of Grandeur

After years of denial and delay I have decided to submit to my delusions of grandeur and believe that I do indeed have something to say, words to be heard, ideas that may strike a chord, familiar and alien as the cicadas buzz. And so it is begun. I am jumping out onto the net hoping it will catch me.

It was a tentative leap starting in a ho hum classroom at the community college. I met with four other women, also middle aged or approaching, to learn how to set up a blog. Our teacher, Katie Granju, was charming, eager, and much to quick for me. When I could not even get my laptop to open a browser to try to get on the server, I was nearly in tears overwhelmed by my long standing technophobia. After the week I had had, the long and nearly sleepless nights with a new lover, the long and tedious workdays with a 150 mile round trip commute, it was all I could to hold back tears, wait for a break to pack up my errant laptop, and go home to drink and cry. But I prevailed. After a surprising caress from my friend across the aisle, she lifted up my laptop, navigated an unfamiliar framework, and set me upon my way, another angel well disguised.

My message is simple to share the notion of being an ordinary visionary. I am a gray haired suburban single mother of teenagers and I am visionary prophet heralding a new realm as it emerges out from the debris of our daily lives. I am an angry lesbian, sick and lonely, and I am a fabulously sexy woman, a poet powerful and free. A sceptical shaman. A conservative humanist. And so the paradox mounts, innerworlds and outer worlds reflecting and co-creating, shadow and light dancing back and forth.

I want to explore here and suggest meaning to so many ideas that trouble me. Why is apparently good food poisoning us? Why are we taking antidepressants that work less the 50% of the time and casue suicide in more than a few of us? Why do we ride around isolated in cars risking death at every turn? Why do require products made by industrial workers who submit to painful and sicknening conditions when simple options are available (to workers and to consumers)? Why are middleaged women castrated every day by the hundreds? Why do we think changing our light bulbs will refreeze the ice caps? Why does my son know how to blast aliens but not how to grow corn? Why does my diabetic daughter need to plan her whole future around the inavailability of health insurance? Where will the lowland poeple go when seas rise?

Most of all I want to make myself do something difficult enough to keep my brain alive for the ten thousand days I may have left remaining among us.