Tag Archives: bear

by

Tea bear

My friend C. is a bear.

People don’t know she is a bear. She carries a bear, a teddy bear. It is named S Bear, after her husband. He died of cancer a while ago. So she carries a bear named after him. The first time I met the bear, I asked if it needed a teacup too. Because people make clothes for it and I don’t know how far it all goes. No, the teddy bear did not need a teacup.

My friend C. is a bear. She writes horror stories under the name lostcauser. The writer is from Tennessee and so is C. The stories are horrid. Lostcauser is an anagram. Rearrange the letters and you get closet ursa. Closet bear. Hidden bear.

She is not my only friend who is a bear. She is aware of her bearness, her ferocity, the beast inside. Bears like honey and blueberries, too, they aren’t just monsters. My other friend dreams of a one room shack in the woods. His dead brother is at the door shouting for help. His brother is being attacked by a bear. A huge terrifying bear.

“Did you invite it in?” I ask.

“It’s a BEAR.” says my friend.

“It’s a Dream Bear.” I say, “I would ask what it wants.”

“You don’t understand bears,” says my friend.

“I understand a lot about dreams. Some think that everyone you see in a dream is a part of yourself. It can be a part that you don’t accept.”

“Bears attack. You can’t invite them in.”

“I would ask the bear in. I would ask the bear if it would like some tea.”

I tell another friend about one of my dreams. There are monsters screaming. I go towards them.

“TOWARDS them?” says my friend. “Why would you go TOWARDS them?”

I have to think about it. “Well, they are screaming. They might be hurt. They might need medical care. I have to go help them.”

My friend shakes his head. “Only you,” he says, “would go towards the screaming.”

One time in my neighborhood, I hear horrible screaming. I get up. It is 1 am. I go out and try to find the screamer. I don’t find anyone. A few days later, I read that someone nearly severed their arm somehow, in my neighborhood. A policeman saves his life with a tourniquet. It was three blocks from my house, at the grade school. The grade school is where I went. I think the person was knifed, but I don’t know. My neighborhood does not get a lot of that sort of thing, at least, not a lot of screaming that wakes me up.

I wonder about my friend that is attacked by a dream bear. A bear that is much bigger than his dream self and his dream brother self. There must be a lot of darkness in that bear. It is angry about being ignored.

My friend C. is a bear. She knows she is a bear. Reading her stories, I do not think she likes being a bear.

I don’t mind if she is a bear. I wonder if we will have tea again some day.

____________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: fan. Why? Maybe I am a fan of bears. Or maybe fans make me think of hats and gloves and tea parties. And bears.

This is based on speculation and some true events.

by

Feeling our way

It’s nice to handle emotions with fantasy. “No it’s not,” you shout, “that’s horrid! We should think nice thoughts and feel nice feels!”

I do not agree. I think that we feel what we feel. Emotions are a rainbow and a sunny day and a huge storm and a tornado. Let them all through. However, we do not have to share them or inflict them on others or act them out in person. We can satisfy that anger, that grief, that hurt, that wound, with fantasy. And let the hurt heal through fantasy by acknowledging it.

There is tons of stuff on the internets/books/magazines about how we have to think nice thoughts, we are what we think, and on and on and on. But now wait a minute. Our Creator thinks up some really really horrible things which play out, right? The world has the full range of emotions from really really dark to beautiful and kind. I am like the world, like the ocean, like the Creator. I have the full range too. It is not the feeling that is evil. It is the acting it out in the world. If it’s acted out in fantasy, does that truly harm others?

Perhaps if it’s PTSD, there is harm. But PTSD is not acting out a fantasy, it’s being unable to deal with something terrible, terrible events, horror, war and violence. Those feelings must be dealt with too and it is no shame to need help, to need a listener, to need a safe place. The same with depression and anxiety: sometimes feelings are overwhelming and we are afraid, afraid, afraid. There is help.

I think that Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī’s Guesthouse poem gives a path.

The Guesthouse

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

translation by Coleman Barks

_____________________________

I read this poem as being about our feelings. A meanness, a dark thought, malice. I think that there is a translation that says that we want each guest to take a good report back to the Beloved, so we must treat each with kindness and hospitality. When a friend dreams of a bear attacking his brother, I ask, “Did you invite the bear in?” “No,” he says, “It’s a bear! They are dangerous!” “But it’s a dream bear,” I say, “I would invite the bear in and listen to it.” “You don’t understand bears,” he says. “It is a dream bear, not a real bear. I always invite the dream monsters to talk to me.” Don’t you? There is a story about a dreamer who dreams about being chased by a monster, a horrible monster, over and over. He runs and runs. Finally he is sick of it and stops. “What do you want!” he shouts at the monster. “Oh, I am so glad you stopped. I was so scared and hoped that you would help me,” says the monster. And the man wakes up.

The giant fruit bat is part of the outdoor pollinator exhibit this holiday season at the US Botanical Gardens.

by

Laid bare

My mind and heart talk daily, argue back and forth.
They takes sides on everything and often disagree.
Why is this such a threat to some, what crooked course
makes them hate my inner talk with such intensity?
I thank you for the clarity, discussion and the clues.
The angry bear that attacks you in your sleep.
I see the split and wonder what to do.
The bear protects your heart, hidden deep.
I hug the bear and monsters through bars of steel.
The silly mind thinks feelings are controlled.
Buried and locked away but every day more real.
Under horror, grief and pain lies the gold.
Each must heal the split by going in alone
Invite the bears and monsters of the heart to come back home.

by

After the bear

I visited an old friend in Europe last March. I talked about the Olympic Peninsula and he was impressed with the cougars and orcas and bears. “We don’t have any large predators here.” Well, only humans.

They used to, though. This is from a local museum: a bear skeleton from about 7000 BC from the country. A very big bear fossil. There were other fossil predators including a wolf like creature.

So this is the succession where he lives: humans living after the bears.

What comes next?

________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: succession.

by

Bear with me

Merle is in his tiny cabin. The cabin far away in the woods. He is holding his guitar. When he realizes where he is, he puts down the guitar, carefully.

He hears crashing outside right away.

He looks. Bear. It rises onto it’s back feet. It is a sow, with cubs! Three!

No, thinks Merle, two cubs. And: “Kurt!” he yells, “Run!”

Kurt just looks at him and turns back to the cubs. The sow is looming outside. This is wrong, why isn’t she attacking Kurt? Kurt is pushing and wrestling the cubs, who are large.

The sow knocks on the cabin wall. “Merle?” says the sow.

Merle doesn’t say a word. This is all wrong.

“Merle?” says the sow bear. She is talking in bear noises but it’s also words in his head. “Well,” says the sow, “you said you could read my mind.”

Merle does not answer. He shakes his head. “Kurt.” he whispers.

The sow bangs on the wall again with a great paw. “You said you’d always be my friend. I miss hiking with you. The rest of it, forget it. Phone, texting, the other stuff. Let’s just hike.”

Merle remains still.

The sow drops to all fours and then sits, her front paws on her back paws. The forest is greening at the tips of the conifers. The grass is electric green from the rain. Kurt and the cubs roll around. Kurt looks ok, really.

“I gave it 50/50 from the start,” says the sow. It’s a meditative growl, if that can be imagined. “I thought you could choose. It was a lie that you could read my mind. You read what you wanted to read. I let you. I thought you’d either keep your promise or break it. I thought you could choose, but maybe I am wrong. Maybe that’s the thing about trying to control other people: if you realize that they are not controlled, you never speak to them again.” The bear rocks forward and back a little. She does not look cute. She looks lethal and smells like bear.

Her mouth opens wide and tongue lolls. “After all, I think people can change and you think they can’t. If you change, then I am right.” She coughs. Merle realizes that it’s laughter.

One of the cubs barrels into her, rolling. She swats it away. Kurt is right behind the cub, but she catches him. She sets him aside, standing up.

“Up to you,” says the bear. She turns towards the woods to the north. Kurt gives a wave and he and the cubs scramble after her.

Merle struggles out of the dream like a diver coming up from the deepest possible dive. “Kurt,” he says, “you said you’d come back and tell me the truth.” He shudders and gets up.

I took the photographs in June 2017.

by

lung pizazz

The tent in the center is mine. I took this two days ago as soon as I had it set up. The big deal is that pulmonary rehabilitation is WORKING.

My friend B from the east coast invited me to hike with him and two other friends. They were going up the Hoh River trail. The initial hike was five miles and then camp. They will go up to Glacier Meadows.

I looked the hike over. The first five miles starts at around 500 feet and stays near the river and fairly level. I bought a pass for the campsite and loaded my pack. I took the pack to pulmonary rehab on Monday and carried it on the treadmill. I went for 25 minutes at 3mph, loaded. My heart rate went to 110 (normal at rest is 60 to 100, though mostly cardiologists don’t care if it’s below 60 unless bad symptoms or heart block) and above, but I held my oxygen sats. I decided I could GO! We met in Port Angeles and then drove up. We didn’t start hiking until 3:30pm but got to the campsite, ate and set up tents.

The next day I hiked back alone. A couple coming in stopped me and said, “There is a bear. It went up a tree when we saw it.” The next trio said that the bear was on the ground and seemed undisturbed. I had my whistle out and kept hiking, a little cautious. I did not see a bear.

As I reached the parking lot, I reread the signs. “Cougar area, hiking alone not recommended.” Oh. Well, but I really was rarely alone. I counted the people hiking up and there were 147 in that 5 mile stretch. Some out for day hikes, some with packs headed to Glacier Meadows or beyond, some with almost no equipment.

Anyhow, I am so delighted that my lungs have recovered enough to hike! I don’t think they are ready for altitude and the climb to Glacier Meadows. Maybe by next summer. Hooray for lung pizazz!

https://www.nps.gov/olym/planyourvisit/hoh-river-trail.htm

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pizazz!

by

bear

I make friends with a bear. Or really, the bear makes friends with me.

It is when I am very sad. I know I will work for another year then close my clinic. Then I will work somewhere else and either make a lot of money or get very sick. Sick being likely. And scary.

The bear lures me out to walk. By offering food.

The bear tells me things, many things. The bear asks me questions. Sometimes I don’t want to answer. I say, “Do I have to answer that?” The bear knows that those are very dark places, when I don’t want to answer.

“What do you want?” asks the bear.

“I just want to be loved.” I say.

“I don’t love you,” says the bear. “I want to be left alone.”

“Then why are you walking with me?” I say.

“People don’t listen.” says the bear.

“I am listening,” I say. The bear shakes his head. We go on walking, often. The bear is both shy and brave, angry and scared, dangerous. “I am very very dangerous.” says the bear.

“Ok.” I say.

Time passes. The bear keeps saying, “People don’t listen.”

“I am listening,” I say.

“People don’t listen,” says the bear. He leaves. Back to the woods, to hide or hibernate or do bear things.

I stand on the beach alone.

“I am listening,” I say.

But the bear wants to be left alone.

So I leave him alone.

by

talking about silence

we are talking about silence
yours deliberate
you don’t want people to know
how you make your money

you are angry, I notice
at how people treat you
you are a self made man
with a lot of money

I don’t much care
about your money
happy for you
& etc

I am more interested in silence
I go silent in Kindergarten
because I am too weird
have no tv
and want to sing

I do not bother to lie
because people don’t listen anyhow
and they don’t believe me

I listen, you say
I read everything you send me

That is not enough, I think
I don’t say it
I think about saying it
I don’t say it

I stopped sending you my poems
months ago
when you got angry
I asked if you would respond
something
a positive
a negative
even just “Read it.”
I don’t understand
why you got angry
and I am not scared
so much as surprised

I guess you brook no criticism
ever
I wonder why you must be perfect
seems tiring to me
at any rate
I am not sending you any poems
any more
since then

you could read my blog
I post some there
selected ones
unexceptional
less personal
though I suppose you could still
be angry

you say you know I am angry
when I go silent

I go silent, thinking about that

you are right that there is anger there in the room with us
you sense it
it is yours, not mine
the bear chained in the dungeon
roaring

poor bear
I send it love
and it is crying
bitter tears
wet and cold
in a pool of tears
I can’t free it
only you can

for a moment you are aware
that I am silent about my poems
then you slam the dungeon door again
and talk about guns and science
and what you will do next

and what you will do next
with your bear
and without me

___________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: distorted.

by

Fibbing Friday: defining monetary terms

  1. In the world of international finance, what do the abbreviations, USD and GBP stand for? USD stands for Use (the) Stocks, Darling and GBP stands for Good Bonding Place. See number 3.
  2. What exactly is cryptocurrency? Currency that is cryptic and actually invisible, as well as unstable. You can’t hold it, you can’t touch it and it only exists as long as the servers have current. That why it is called currency. Once the current is off the cryptocurrency disappears.
  3. What is the difference between stocks and bonds? Stocks are immobile, usually made of wood, and are not all that common now, except in really retro BDSM dungeons. Bonds are very mobile and can be made of velvet, or metal as in handcuffs, or nearly anything that you can tie someone up with. Wire and barbed wire are not ok. Use the safe word.
  4. What is meant by a “bull” market? This is a market that sells a lot of bull. It is very very common.
  5. What is meant by a “bear” market? This is when the bears show up and devour all the bulls.
  6. What is a stock split? Usually one uses an ax or a chainsaw to demolish stocks. Rarely, those demolition people who blow up buildings are called upon, but this does not leave neat halves. Stock splits are often the product of either a divorce or the sale of the building holding the retro BDSM dungeon.
  7. What exactly is crowdfunding? My favorite crowdfun involves the pop up singing where one person starts singing and it turns out that the entire chorus is standing around in a crowd. Flash mobs! Some people prefer demonstrations or driving a lot of trucks around the beltway. I do not think storming the Capitol is a good crowdfun.
  8. What is a pension? These no longer exist in the US.
  9. What is a 401(k)? 410K is the number right before the answer to the universe, number 42. Once we reach 41, everyone says OK, because 42 is next.
  10. What is day trading? Trading that does not occur at night.

For Fibbing Friday.

Flashmob:

by

Valentine

I am thinking of you
my love my valentine
on valentine’s day
at two in the morning

two to too
much to bear
I want to be a tiger
not an ox

disabled
but still strong
I settle into the traces
again

the load is placed
I look at my path
gather my strength
turn on my oxygen
and pull

no one expects
an ox on oxygen
to be able to pull

you don’t either

why do you think
so little of me
why do you scorn
what I do

when you return
you find
traces of the wagon wheels
on the ground

but once I am on the road
you can’t follow
you can’t find me
any more

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt slender, as in slender hope.

The photograph is neither an ox nor a tiger, but a sea lion, off of Marrowstone Island, Washington.