Blank Slate Love Stories, #PrincessBride #SongLyricSunday

Not all feels so right, but so much going right and went right this week and lately.

Song Lyric Sunday, #SongLyricSunday

I want to always spread music here on my blog, music that makes me happy, makes others happy.

The Princess Bride

In honour of my sister and her husband, celebrating their seventh wedding anniversary in September, and to the family they’ve created.

***

Written and sung by Willy DeVille, arranged by Mark Knopfler, engineered and mixed by Steve Jackson Come my love, I’ll tell you a tale of a boy and girl and their love story and how he loved her oh, so much, and all the charms she did possess. Chorus: My love is like a storybook story. But it’s as real as the feelings I feel. My love is like a storybook story. But it’s as real as the feelings I feel; it’s as real as the feelings I feel. Now this did happen once upon a time When things were not so complex. And how he worshipped the ground she walked on. When he looked in her eyes, he became obsessed. [Chorus] This love was stronger than the powers so dark, A prince could have within his keeping; His spells to weave and steal a heart Within her breast, but only sleeping. [Chorus] He said, “Don’t you know I love you oh, so much, And lay my heart at the foot of your dress?” She said, “Don’t you know that storybook loves Always have a happy ending?” Then he swooped her up, just like in the books, And on his stallion they rode away. [Chorus]

http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/theprincessbride/onceuponatimestorybooklove.htm

***

Real life, reality, it isn’t like a fairy tale story, but on a day like a wedding it can be whatever the bride and groom wishes.

https://helenespinosa.wordpress.com/2016/07/30/song-lyric-sunday-theme-for-73116/

Sailing Away and the Bee Tree, #TGIF #FTSF

I hear it, that far off humming from the other side of the driveway.

What’s that noise?

My family start hinting at the origin, somewhere nearby, but not too near.

We’re standing around, in the driveway, with the fresh cut scent of grass in the air.

“Ooh, don’t tell Kerry,” they say, dancing around something they see and I don’t. I know them pretty well and can probably guess.

***

This was no Winnie the Pooh cartoon. I remember his song about being a little black storm cloud, as he attempted to disguise himself in mud, so he could sneak honey from a tree, attempting to avoid detection by the swarm of bees.

This time, in this driveway, it was a favourite tree of my mom’s. The late afternoon warmth of the day made conditions just right for pollination.

This was a nightmare of mine.

Not pollination. I think that’s cool and all, for the bees, but it took some coaxing from my sister, to get me to walk close to the Eastern redbud tree, as the closer I came, the louder the sound of the bees. They were clearly occupied, more concerned with the flowers they were working on, and weren’t about to stop their very important duties, to all land on me, like they would if I were dreaming.

***

I back away hastily, nevertheless, just in case. The sound of a swarm of bees makes me shrink back. That sound gets me moving, faster than most anything else I might hear. Not the fault of the bees at all.

***

Yu know that fear you have that something in your own life will inevitably reoccur at night, in your dreams?

Of course, we don’t normally control that. The things, at least for me, which I fear could show up in my dreams at night never show up, just because I think they will. Always, it’s a surprise, for good or ill.

***

This week’s Finish the Sentence Friday post is about

dreams

and

dreaming.

***

I need to start a dream journal. If I were to do this, I would need to write them down the moment I wake up, because within minutes the memories fade, unless extremely vivid. I have had some of those over the years, of which some really crazy stories could have been written. Ah well.

**I’ve dreamed about clowns. *Shudders

**I’ve dreamed the standard one where I’m being chased.

**I’ve dreamed I was stuck at the bottom of the ocean.

**I’ve dreamed that I moved out to the west coast of Canada, to fulfill my long held dream of studying marine biology.

**Some good and some not so good dreams, for sure.**

**I’ve dreamt I was in an old house, one that smelled rancid, and when I awoke I could still smell it on the insides of my nostrils.

The putrid smell in the dream carried on into my day and I still get that happening on occasion. A strange mix-up of senses, experience, and consciousness.

***

To round off this week’s answer to the sentence I thought I would address one of the most commonly asked questions about blindness:

Do I see when I dream?

I don’t suddenly drift off each night and enter a totally sighted realm. I believe, most times, the brain can’t simply create images where none have been known. I could be wrong, not wanting to speak for all who can’t see, but it also depends on if you’ve been totally blind all your life or not. I have had more sight previously. Perhaps my brain can use a recall method, but mostly I don’t think about it. I can’t even really give a totally clear and concise answer.

You’d think it should be easy to say, but it’s not so black and white. More different variations of grey.

When I sleep, I dream in, from what I can recall, faded light. I think, as my sight seems to be less and less, that element of my dreaming hours becomes less and less important. I like the break I usually get though. In my dreams, I don’t worry about being treated differently. I don’t worry how I’m going to get somewhere, or if I have someone’s arm to guide me, or if I’ve suddenly ended up without my white cane. I just don’t care and, I must say, that break from reality is the best part of dreaming, no matter what I see or don’t see while I’m in the midst of it.

***

This song came on in a restaurant where I found myself eating lunch the other day.

Sailing – Christopher Cross

While I was sleeping, I dreamt his song. I like it. It takes me away somewhere when I hear it, sort of like a beautiful and a peaceful dream should.

The Reality of My Own Perception, Or Something Like It

Last week feels like so long ago now. I completed several things, a book review I’d been working on since July.

A week ago, for

Redefining Disability,

http://rosebfischer.com/2014/07/15/the-redefining-disability-awareness-challenge/

I had to go on a search to find my own:

Patience With Public Perception

This time, when it comes to disability, I write about my own perceptions.

But perceptions are reality to each of us, individually. Of course, all of this is my own perception.

Have you been following me?

🙂

Yep. Confusing circle of endless perceptions, isn’t it?

How many times can I use the word “perception”? Nope. That is not the question for today.

***

Q: How has your perception of disability changed in your lifetime?

A: I’m an over thinker. Yep, I am. It’s what I do.

The one thing about my particular disability, compared to some others possibly, is that I am unable to focus on my visual surroundings and the sighted world.

This has me stuck with my own mind, as what’s going on visually around me, on a daily basis, is less of a helpful distraction.

Now, that’s not to say I’m not perfectly willing to concede that this can get me into trouble sometimes. I need to make sure I am interacting with others, using my other sences enough, so that I can get out of the endless loop of thoughts and perception inside my brain.

IT’S A TRAP!

🙂

My perceptions, as a child, were obviously much different than those I carry as an adult. Having disability from birth makes a transition, over the years and the stages of my life, hard to follow sometimes, difficult to pin down.

I try to get back there, as I miss that childlike view of the world, as I see it in the little people in my life now.

I was thinking about it as I spent a few solo hours with my now three-year-old nephew last week, since I last spoke to public perception of disability for RDAC.

He still does not know. I can say that fairly safely. He does not yet understand what disability or blindness means. It isn’t really a factor so far, in his sheltered little world.

I like this time spent with only him. It brings me a sense of peace and reflection, free from the sometimes exhausting loop I refer to above.

He holds something, a toy out toward me, and I don’t react. Maybe, for a moment or two, he wonders what that might mean.

I lived it. I’m still living it.

I want to be that child that lives in a child’s world. I don’t want disability to matter. I don’t want to have to constantly perceive what disability means. I envy him.

It’s a nice thought, to be able to get on with the business of living, but I have this filter in my mind and I can’t stop the loop from circling round.

And round, and round, and round it goes.

I no longer have the luxury of a three-year-old’s perception. I am stuck with my thirty-one-year-old’s perceptions. I want to be three again.

My perception and my reality are stuck up there, lost in the loop. If they would ever slow down enough, maybe I could make them known.

Canada must tackle disability rights reform

I must perceive what my country’s election might mean for me. I want to retreat to my loop.

I must leave my own perceptions and study what the public ones are. Again, I want to return to the loop.

I am an adult, but with all the added and the extra worries about where I fit, or don’t fit, in that adult world. My perceptions are my own, which matter of course, but I must find a way to meld that with the outside world, if I ever want to get out of my own head and find a way to join the living.

I perceive disability as my own personal reality, but at the same time I see it and how it really must be for so many other people with it.

It changes, like everything else in life, as the years and my experiences stack up.

Change is inevitable. Perception is reality.

Hmmm. Just what other cliches can I add to that?

Okay, so perhaps this question has gone completely off the rails this week. Just maybe.

I just want to get back to the lessons a three-year-old can teach.

I want to hold up my ideas and my perceptions to the light, not keep them always hidden on that wacky loop-dee-loop in my head, even if they are met with blank stares or questioning eyes.

I want to live it and stop perceiving and pondering. I want to answer this question, to participate in this blogging challenge, and to help other people understand, but yet I don’t know if I can do all that. Don’t know if it’s possible. I am perceiving, even as I write this. I don’t know where I’m going with it, like life. I am letting my weekend stream of consciousness writing spill over into my week I suppose because I can’t possibly hope to make any sense here today, as I write on a Monday that is actually a Wednesday.

***

I can’t hope to make much sense here, but I try anyway. I answered these questions about perception, relating to disability, because I don’t like leaving any unanswered. I did my best, but to fully follow my answer, you’d need to be inside my head where my own perceptions reside. I am not sure if perception is all too easily explained with words.

Do you agree with me at all? Were you able to follow what I said, my answer to this week’s question whatsoever?

If not, I will understand.

Redefining Disability on Facebook

Follow the page though because the thoughts, views, and opinions are expressed a lot better over there. Promise.

🙂

Next week’s question is:

How has medical treatment and technology changed in your lifetime?

Only Time

Goodbye August.