SOUL MUD: Random Ramblings of my 24/7 Brain

I dream a lot.   I dream in color.   I have repetitive dreams.   I can wake up and then fall back asleep and go back to the dream as if I had just pressed pause.   I remember my dreams – at least most of them unless I am sleep walking/talking.   Those dreams escape me and my ability to recall them.     For the past couple years, I’ve been dreaming of houses.   I dream of big, expansive houses with many bedrooms.   In these dreams, the houses all belong to be, but it seems that most of them are recent acquisitions and I have lots to discover.   There are always many, many bedrooms.   However, I usually am limited to a couple bedrooms that are actually put together, decorated, and in use while others lay in wait for me to clean them, or sort through the contents.   Most of the bedrooms that need sorted through are on a second level of the building.   I find I am excited to look through what has been left in the roo...

Is tragedy so common that I am perpetually in a state of or numb to shock?  I shrug off what does not affect me personally and slip on blinders to release my own guilt at my cavalier manner.   Yet worry and angst smolder below the surface.   I fool myself into ignoring, pushing aside and rendering not important events and circumstance that, in fact, make my core being shudder.   I know not how to cope with the things that I cannot control and therefore find a false and treacherous sense of solace in turning a blind eye to it. My age condemns me, yet the scared child in me grasps desperately to restore my innocence via ignorance.   I mourn my innocence.   Wistful as it was, blissfully remembering the long lost ability to wave off worry and concern and a now developed understanding of things to be fearful of, leave my soul aching for past naiveté.   Oh, but to be so juvenile as to see only potential, reveli...

This part of my life, the past couple of years, have been and still are about self-discovery and self-awareness.   It is a heady thing.   I find that I battle careening between emotional extremes.   In one moment, I feel excited and exhilarated, thrilled and invigorated at learning and becoming aware of some new aspect of myself; the next, I am drained, exhausted, sad and completely spent.   Before I go any further I want to stop and talk about my journey thus far and the methods I have incorporated.   I wish there wasn’t such a stigma related to mental health.   We take seriously our physical health and don’t judge or condemn people for getting regular physicals and dental check-ups.   Our mental health and well-being should be at least as important.   The world we live in is hectic, stressful and sometimes traumatic.   If we maintained a minimum level of mental health awareness, providing ourselves with regular check-ups, I firmly believ...

Even if you believe in creation, doesn’t the planet, (virtually every life form), still currently operate on chance?   Each tree, plant and grass all release millions of seeds and billions of pollens over their lifetime resting their regeneration on the chance of reproducing and or spreading.   Animals and insects do the same – every day all over the planet.   Even with humans, women produce hundreds of eggs and men produce billions of sperm, all for the chance of reproduction.   It’s the same everywhere to varying degrees.   Almost all life on the planet Earth operates under some variation of chance.   Ok…now here is where my thought process get a little “out there”...but stay with me.   Let’s add a little genetics and DNA into this thought process.   We share 99% of our DNA with Chimpanzees, 97% with other apes, 93% with mice, and 50% with a simple banana.   Think about that for a second.   Then consider that many of those ge...

THE STORM By Autumn Boyet Stinton – July 20, 2017 The storm clouds outside reflect the storm brewing in my soul.   My steely cold frustration with narcissistic turbulence collides with the heat of anger and produces a head of thunder, lightning and rage that will not be contained.   Negative energy feeds upon itself growing to critical mass, destined to explode and rain down agony upon me and all around me.   Emotions swirl and the outflow of grit and dirt blast away protection leaving each nerve exposed and feeling raw.   My stomach pitches as the thunder begins to rumble and roll, unleashing a warning chorus of impending danger.   “Run away,” it admonishes.   “Take cover,” it warns.   The air is electrified with sizzling energy that seeks to lash out and plunge its wrath into whatever may quench its thirst. As if to give credence to the warning rumble of the thunder built from angst, the full intensity of the storm bursts forth...

As women, we understand from an early age that there are certain things, unspoken rules if you will, that we must abide by in the sisterhood of femininity we are born into.   These guidelines are passed from generation to generation making us stronger, better women.   It makes sense to me that there are variations of ideals that are passed down based on the culture that you are born into.   However, the basics remain the same.      The woman code celebrates the power of women and leads generation after generation in pursuit of confidence, equality, strength, femininity, love, fulfilment, passion and success.   I’ve always found this unspoken bond reassuring.   More than just my mother, my aunts, my cousins, my friends and my colleagues, I’ve felt the reassurance of this bond with acquaintances and even strangers.    But, I have also instinctually felt unease in the presence of women who don’t adhere to the code.   At this...

This morning I received a message from a friend about raining (she actually said pooping...but I digress) on my parade.  It made me giggle because I tend to roll with the punches for the most part and blithely ignore party-"pooping."  So I got to thinking about my patterns and my life outlook on my drive in to work.  As I drove along, I realized that thoughts on this particular topic we colorful, whimsical like a carousel and I was literally waxing poetic in my own head as follows:     My Parade – By Autumn Boyet Stinton (May 25, 2017)   Every color and every feeling… Leaves me laughing, dancing, spinning, reeling. Noise and sound always flowing… Participants many, shrinking, growing. As fickle as my every whim… It is for my life a synonym.   I make it what I want you see… Inviting some to join with me.   The invitation is very clear… Join with me, Yes, I’m most sincere.   ...