Random notes...

This week, my wonderful husband is out on his own, being a writer, doing writer type things, and hanging out at all of our old favorite Knoxville haunts. That means I have to somehow make extroverted me deal with all this silence, quiet, and being aloneness that comes with a week of married singlehood. This includes such anomalies as making my own lunches, picking up my own dirty clothes from their random flungness on the bedroom floor, and feeding myself and two cats (kibble is for kitties, kibble is for kitties). From this, I've learned that I'm completely NOT ready to be a parent. Not until after graduate school. So, what have I been up to?

Well, I read Meg's great post on productive vs. fruitful. She has another one on suffering that I found pertinent, astute, and clever.

On Friday, before my dear husband left, we went to a hip hop show downtown at the Abbey Pub. Me! In all of my rhythm-lacking anxious whiteness, went to a hip hop show, and I. Loved. It. Please, do check out two great hip hop groups of artists. The other one is over here. If you've ever wondered what my husband looks like, he looks like Adeem, the rapper in Glue. (What a great name for a music group!!!)

I've been reading for advanced psychodynamic class, again, some excerpts from Soul Making by Alan Jones

This is how you have to be--like the dead; beyond cursing and praise, unaffected by the opinions of others.

Silence and a feeling of deadness seem to go together. To be utterly silent can feel like death. And silence is important to both the desert tradition and to psychoanalysis. As we have the the psychoanalyst's role is sometimes to sit with the patient and remain completely silent and apparently unhelpful.

'Stopping the world' is an exhilarating experience. Just for a moment, we have no chioce but to see all our dogmatic and philosophial baggage thrown overboard as we stand ship-wrecked on an unknown island. There we are, naked, stripped of the fig leaves of our prejudices and presuppositions. The believer's world is full of images of this "dying." It is strange how many believers are cuaght off guard, since some for of 'dying in order to live' is at the heard of all the great religions. Yet the really creative and free souls I have encountered all have been shipwrecked at one time or another. They have had their world taken from them and lived to tell the tale.

Last night, I had a long overdue, meaningful discussion about life, family, and becoming a therapist with my friend Sarah. She has the most beautiful hair in the world, and a beautiful spirit that is even better than her hair. But let's not talk until 2am again, okay Sarah? At least not on a school night.

I have also spent time being called out, by my clients. Or A client. Yeah, so ever tried to help another person become comfortable with silence when that's YOUR growing edge as well? It's not easy. Rewarding, but not easy. Said client called me on the fact that I always take a sip of water on my kick ass water bottle anytime I want to be maintain the silence, but am having a hard time keeping my fat mouth shut. Wow, how perceptive! So many of my clients would be great therapists. Many of them are so gifted in this sense of the word.

I've also been doing some psych testing. I'm getting to know the Woodcock Johnson. Written by Dick Woodcock and his colleague Johnson. How many slang terms for penis can you fit in one test name? It makes me giggle. Any suggestions for what a female version of a test name could be?