Even the regimented concept of chapters feels a little confining, so, time for a dose of random!
Writing this book is therapeutic for me. That’s not why I am doing it, but I’m finding it to be the case. I have been planning to write this for at least 5 years. I helped a couple of friends with editing and proof-reading on their manuscripts before they were published, and shopped a concept (book proposal) on another book previously, and got some response from publishers with definite interest, but I just wasn’t sure that I wanted to do this that way. This was something that, like my rock paintings, is so personal and such a special collaboration with the Lord. I never could sell any of my rocks, I gave each one of them to special people for special reasons. I feel kind of like that about this. I would rather give it away, and let God have His own way and will with it, like casting bread upon the waters. I find that I get to see such amazing things when that happens, and they really are some of my most favorite treasures. The memories of those times are like jewels, and I sort of imagine God keeping them for me, and look forward to seeing what He fashions out of them. Meanwhile, down here, even now, reminiscing over those “jewels” in my memory, makes me smile.
I have been mentally collecting thoughts and ideas about what I wanted to someday share in the book, in the same way that I do most things. I first have to sort of get the general, macro-concept together first, so I know going in what the approximate scope is, of what I’m attempting to do, and then I just start letting it happen. I don’t know if anyone else operates that way, and I don’t really know if I always have, but when you have been through a stripping-down process like the one I’ve been through, you have to find some way around the meticulous, and be much more expansive in your thinking. I’ve often quipped that if you want something from in my mind, the best I can do is dump out the drawer I think it’s most likely filed in, and let you sort through the contents and if you find what you need, then take it, and if not, well, we can always try another drawer.
So far I have talked about a lot of different things. Like the girl in the Narcolepsy video, I also have a horrible sense of time. It comes with the territory, I think, of Narcolepsy living. So, when I think back right now, over what I have already written, I could tell you what things I’ve touched on, but if you wanted to know which chapter it was in, or what day I published it, I couldn’t tell you.
I wrote about voluntarily checking into an in-patient Christian psych program after the second marriage. There was a lady I met there named Mary. She was British, and was so sweet. We became fast friends. I wrote this poem for her on her last day there. She told me my attempt at a British accent was atrocious, when I read it to her, lol. One of the things we did was art therapy. We drew pictures of the things we had a hard time talking about, and there were no “rules” about it. You could express things however you wanted. I don’t have any of those pictures, but I have done others over the years since then. Mary found the color lavender to be very soothing. It is sort of fitting, her being from England and all.
I Wish You Lavender Mary
© Sandee Thompson 11/11/93
Mary Mary quite contrary with your smiling face all aglow
Big eyes like a child and a heart full of love
You’re a wonderful Mary to know!
Mary Mary strong and sweet, delightfully funny and smart
A bit cheeky at times, But I never mind, ’cause I know it’s all pure from the heart.
Mary Mary with so much inside, special and rare and unique.
And my prayer for you now, God grant Mary, oh Mary
All the wholeness and peace which you seek.
And Mary, oh Mary, wherever you go in this big scary world here below
Please always do remember that a friend’s a friend forever.
You’re my friend, I just wanted you to know.
So when I see you up in heaven we shall laugh, and dance ’round the throne.
And giggle and sing, about tea with the queen
And we’ll all have arrived safely Home.
When my room mate and I stole the pink flamingo, there was a story in the news about this guy who stole a garden gnome off someone’s lawn, and took it with him on his travels all over the world, snapping photos of it by the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, The Great Wall of China, etc, and sending the photos back to the address from where he’d stolen the gnome. That was our inspiration, but we didn’t take it anywhere, we just laughed about it and got a kick out of telling the story to our friends. But I guess God taught me a lesson because during that same week, I woke up one morning with horrible pain in both my eyes. I had fallen asleep on the floor and slept there the whole night, and that was how they were when I got up. I went to the emergency room at the hospital where I worked, and they determined it was corneal abrasions. I had to wear an eye patch on BOTH my eyes for several days. My room mate had to cut up my food and feed me. I laughed so hard I could barely eat! Corneal abrasions hurt really bad, so I was probably on pain meds too. Fortunately the tissue of the cornea heals pretty quickly, so after a couple of days, the patch was able to come off of one eye. Your eyes act in tandem, so even if you only scratch one cornea, most docs will apply a patch to both eyes for a couple of days, regardless. I couldn’t see myself, so I told my roomie to take a picture.
I believe that our subconscious mind is something like the little macrophages that work within the body to carry the “garbage” out at the cellular level. They take the garbage and process it “behind the scenes”. Dreams are our subconscious mind at work, filing, sorting, sifting through all our thoughts and emotions. Two of these mirror sketches are depictions of two “mirror dreams” that I had after I had met Garrett, and the painting is one I painted after we were engaged, but before we were married. The “Oh, There You Are” sketch is one of the dream depictions, and “stripped away” is one of my at-home art therapy drawings. Though I am a word person, things that are very close to my heart are much harder for me to express. Through all the years of working through the stuff in my past, I did a lot of journaling, but the artwork was in those times when I really just couldn’t find words. I will write address each of these images separately, elsewhere in the book, and share a professional photo that I had done as a sort of a milestone celebration a couple of years back, after the Narcolepsy had been diagnosed and was being treated, and I felt like I was having a sort of a new beginning.