TERMINAL FIVE

Neil Fallon,

the frontman and Scientist

of brainfood

blending intellect with good old

hard rock,

projecting lyrics on a magic carpet 

ride of a NEIL OF STEEL heard voice~

An outstanding spokesmen,

exposing the "men behind the curtain":

Fallon's TRUTH ~ a sort of alchemic

wizardry hardly whispered &

Never muffled

you hear & feel  all CLUTCHES LYRICS...

As the band stands firm in their Grass Roots

anti establishment,

the golden age of ROCK~

CLUTCH

rims the hard core/ rock an roll,

the tailored fit of fresh riffs~

that will never be old.

Their individual talents elevate

the performance;

no need for pompous mellowdramatic

body gestures,,,,,

bringing in the good ol' cow bell

Fallons preacher like stances

are enough to ignite you live.

On Fire the eye contact

contracted desire.

I must Admit I;m a sucker for the Witch.

I might deny her but my heart will never resist.

Behind The Cliffside Inn,I Heard A Fiddle And A Mandolin,Keeping Rhythm On An Old WashboardAnd Stomping On The Floor.Saw People Of All SortsDancing 'Round In Twos And Fours,Caroling About Days Of Old,And What The Future Holds.

The mix was heavy, lastnight.

My soul was cuddled in the depths

of bass lines , deeply needed healing.

Squashed out sadness within the tight moshpit.

Thank you to my darling friend Kat.

Somehow we made it out alive,

She got me out from under the mourning of my dad.

 Unclutch the Clutch

and be clutched

in 

CLUTCH!

Lemmy Raise Hell !

I'll never forget the Night I got to see these guys. My boyfriend was schooling me at the time
in Bands like The Damned, Black Sabbath~ MØtorhead.....
 Cromags, Old school Metallica, BadBrains, SAMHAIN, The icemen and of course the hardcore sounds of
BACH~ Toccata & Fugue in D minor.
Most of the time I was half baked, nothing interested me more, at the time ,t hen a fat doob ! SO,
~ climbing into the back of John Gambles Huge boxy car,
I Can;t; remember wether it was like some old Plymouth or Cadillac ...
but the back seat
swallowed Me and Marco up.
There was no air between us.
The front seat was a couch ,Gamble's girl slid all the way over right by his side too.
We were on an adventure. I felt like I was in a dream.
I was floating.

I do believe the venue was in Queens somewhere~in 86' or 1987...?
perhaps the spring? L'amour East in Elmhurst...could that have been the Venue?!!
or was it the one in Brooklyn?
We walked in and the crowd was wild for these guys. I think I was just so new to their
sound~ I hadn;t "grown up" yet to the hard rock sounds of their particular graces.
Marco had sown the seed, it was just
in'it's infancy stages. It was my first hardcore moshpit sort of show....
scared little wannabe witch girl
I was.
I felt a tad like a foreigner...
Marco held me close ~ protected from Moshpit dangers. And When I say LOUD>
MØTORHEAD PLAYED LOUD.
I would go to CBGB"S all the time, I just had this sincere fear
for authority
 and never messed in the game of fake ID cards , like all my other friends,
so I would always just stand outside..... little did I know all I was missing.
Sometimes it takes alittle while before the magic takes root, that;s all.
All good things in All good time.
Nice to Know Lemmy went out inside his own home.

                                          

One Month Today.......

The Summer of The Shrew........

The summer of ......ahhhhh

Huh?

Yeh that summer?!

Oh Look the poster says 78' ~

 for some reason

I thought it was the early 80's but 

my memory has it~

I was still going to PS41 ~ 

so yeah 78'!

In 1979, I saw my first CONCERT at

Madison Square Garden

 KISS

And that was with my step dad Larry.

We walked all the way back down to 

WestBeth~ ears ringing.

The Best of both worlds.

In 1978,

The summer in the Park.

We would come early , as usual,

Dad rolled super early ALLL the TIME>

We would get a little snack pack from the vendor out front.

Cheddar or sometimes Brie, an Apple, Baguette, some grapes ,

nuts & a cookie ~and Whatever Drink we decided~NO SODA.

Dad would make sure we got into our comped seats and get us

settled.

"Sit tight" ! We did. My brother and I were well behaved.

Shakespeare in the park & a snack pack~

the sweet summertime air and Raoul Julia.

The heat would die down with the shadows of the on coming evening,

which came late. It never seemed too buggy or perhaps they were just attracted 

to the theatre lights.

The heat of the concrete jungle was absent from

this small patch of forest in the middle of

manhattan.

The soul of the city is lush, green and

hey looky there creative too~

Shakespeare in the Park

under the stars....

Outdoor theatre how fascinating.

AHHHHHH   Raoul ~ 

I had been crushin' on him 

since Two Gentlemen Of Verona.

So what I was like barely four,

wow I am weird.

This particular summer show was an easy one to "follow"

being raised in all sorts & types of plays.

AND SHAkespeare huh,,,questionable

No wait,, this one was a good one.

I could understand this one.

It was a little bit like the soap opera

my grandma Rich watched on Tv.

The passion, the lust that was not returned.

The word Woo was used alot .

Tensions, hatred turned into submissive love.

Now there;s something to chew on as a 10 year old.

Not to mention the looks of Meryl with her pushed up renaissance

bussom ~ the powdered cleavage .

The power of Raoul as Petrucio,

meets his match in Kate.

They break eachother.

Meryl Streep was just starting to make some waves in the arena of 

actors, and apparently,

she was very close with my Dad;s girlfriend `seemingly still is.

All I know is when we went back stage after the performances , Dad pulled us in~

And there was Raoul, he admired my "all grown Uppedness" ~melted I was indeed.

I do recall meeting Meryl Streep..and her beauty was striking.

Her delicately pronounced nose and the color of her eyes didn;t catch up

until you were right in front of her.

Gentle and sincere, my dad did not like her. He had such a funny and particular hate for certain

fellow actors...and it always  made me wonder if, perhaps, he was

threatened by their talents . Or  was it that , his ego was not receiving much praise as perhaps

those he hated were as narcissistic as he was.....thus so absorbed with self~ they forgot

to blow some praising smoke up the Bottoms Ass ~thus the hillbilly hate would take root

in him??!!

 ANd please NOTE

I speak this of my father with the utmost love in my heart. It;s merely

an opinion . An inner observation.

It;s ego mania.... and

we suffer from a longline of it.

I look in the "mirror", I see all these marvelous traits I seemingly inherited .

 Perhaps watching my father, acknowledging how he treated

people ~both good & On'ry'~silent or opinionated;overly sincere

or beyond detached :

made me think how that plays a role in the success of an actor.

A parent, a teacher , a librarian , a student ,  

a general human being.

Really?!!! REALLY ...

am I going on here~ into another

generalization of blah blah blAh land,,,,

Bottom line , at this point'

MY DAD WOULD ALWAYS SAY

"FUCK "EM"!

DOC HOLIDAY

When's the last time you Fasted?

Nutritional Morsels that come from holding back sometimes,,,,,,
click on the post

John Bottoms

I look at my Dad in these Pictures.
I knew my Dad, I mean yeh! he was my Dad.
Of course I knew him. As a child , I knew him.
Perhaps I have always looked at my Dad thru my
child'e eye?!
He was the one that came home late that night,
when I cut my nose wide open.
Mom was drawing a bath for me and my brother and the lofts
were being built in our new Westbeth Apartment.D802.
Ellen Stewart from La MaMa hooked Dad up with.
You had to be an artist in order to get in there.
I had taken a nice block of wood , wanted to float it in the
bath, It was going to make the perfect boat!
I was testing it out in the sink as the bath water was collecting,
I went to rest my elbow on the side of the sink
and as I slipped , I must have sliced the part of my nose
where the upper lip and nostril meet.
Blood everywhere. Mom placed me over the toilet,
as I watched the beautiful droplets of blood hit the water and explode
into a collage of an expanding cloud, my mom rushed my brother to the neighbors.

Grabbed me up, and ran me all the way to Saint Vincent;s Hospital.
I remember her waiting for the light to turn at Seventh Avenue.
And she was telling me to stay calm.
They tied me down an placed a sheet with one small circle for my eye and
one circle for my nose, As I could see this enormous needle come at my face.
I freaked out.
It was horrible.
I got stitches.
The best part of that night was when my Dad came home and
just sat with me in his lap, quietly, in the shadows from the lights that illuminated the hallways
across the way into our apartment.
Quietly sitting there in his arms, I felt safe.
I wondered about the suite & tie
 and the briefcase ~ Must have been important where he was this night.
Because he NEVER wore a suit let alone carried a briefcase.
He asked me all about what had happened. He listened too,
he listened.

These early memories of my Father being around, are bittersweet~
shortly thereafter he packed his bags and left us.
But see he didn't "leave" us..... he left our apartment
but he was ever so present.

Today , I do the math. I figured , every other weekend from friday to sunday
with acouple extra days for christmas plus the months of August.

So 12 months in a year.
Four weekends in a month..... four days to visit in each month
4x12=48days plus acouple xtra days for xmas is like 50 days
plus the thirty days
so that makes like 80 days.... out of 365 days..... huh.

DID I KNOW MY DAD?

Funny how doubt can play a Lead roll in a child that felt abandonment.
I KNEW MY DAD>!

My brother and I had his attention in a sacred way.
He was our father, one whom bathed himself in us.
Perhaps the "limited" visitation
gave him reverence for us in a way
a stay at home father might take "TIME" for granted.!?

It wasn;t an over absorbed : helicopter type of situation
either. We got on his nerves something fierce.
His quiet reading~ ACtoR ways were boring to two
vivacious village kids. The black and white TV
only got channels 5,11 and 13.
Which meant Baseball or Animals, Muppets & Sesame Street.
The time we threw pebbles from the roof of dads loft
down at the dudes working, parking cars ....
AH hello.... a Parking Lot and flying pebbles ~
$500.00 later it never occurred to us we might break a window?!!! REALLY.
But for Dad , forgiveness came quick. There was no time to waste.
Our time was quality time.

Battery Park City became our living room in the summertime. Dad could
find peace in his readings. As Chris an I learned how to climb the tiny
cherry Trees or play Hide & Seek Tag around the fort there.
Then there was Village Skate or Waverly Skate....
Dad would just chill ALL daY long while me an chris would
skate our little hearts out.
That put us into super chill mode, Dad was smart.
He would feed our soul with things to do and then take us
to delicious places to eat , like the Thai joint on Bayard st.
Cheap and delicious. He would always order the Full fish,
head an all.
We would settle in to watch Hitchcock or National Geo.
He would have us learning Chess or
School us on all the pressure points in our feet....
and then the next day ~ it was our turn to show him where
they were. He had the most beautiful toes an feet.

I virtually learned the neighborhood because we would walk
everywhere.
It was rough keeping up with those those super longlegs of his.
My friends would always say my Dad was the tallest Dad they
ever saw.
Six foot 3". That;s right and super Skinny.

Dad was working at the Public Theatre. Those enormous Banners flowing
in the air as we would approach the side entrance in.  The Landmark for me
was that crazy Super giant Black cube that resided in the
middle of the road.....

Or the orange red brick of the 49thStreet Train Station ..where we would always hit
the Howard Johnson's prior to a performance or after a rehearsal.
Chris and I would hang out in the tiny little box seats off to the side
of the stage. He with his MatchBox Cars and Me with my Barbies.
The box seats with red velvet curtains was our little playpen.
I wonder sometimes how Dad got away with bringing us with him to
 his broadway rehearsals. I think it was Joel Zwick that came back there once
and told us to keep it down. I was mortified. It;s a way to learn how to be mindful.
This I learned well growing up around the theatre. I respect all the ups and downs
that my father;s journey brought to my journey.

We were trusted to sit tight, in the audience,
so young.... awaiting the dimming of the lights. It took everything in me not to
tell everyone seated around me ~ how mY DAD WAS PERFORMING>
I knew every song, every line....
I spent my life....well........  eighty some odd days of it A year~
observing, listening, and learning how my father morphed into a new
person for each and every play he ever did before he moved to Minneapolis.
And at that point I was older and following my own path ~ as most college students
do.


Dad ,just living his life, was a pure installation.

Dance with Me ~ the memories of my Child~

A reason for giving Thanks.....

I give thanks to the day my Dad and Mom
made me.
I remember the day my Dad left my Mom.
It was devastating, but he was always there
for me. He taught me to love , and to forgive,
he was the most compassionate man.
He listened to me and sat with me.
He taught me how to play Chess
and Frisbee. He spent time with me.
He took my freezing little hands inside of his
and blew his warmth upon them while
we waited in line for Radio City Music Hall
to open their doors.
And although the separation of his daily
presence was hard, our time was all about quality.
Not quantity.
Alot of things are confusing when we're young.

I give thanks for the confusion and the chaos
I endured in my early childhood
because I believe it made me
who I am today.
If my Dad hadn;t left us , I wouldn;t have had the
awesome experiences that his journey
brought upon my life.
His spirit is in me,
every nook and cranny ,
every particle of his is in me.
My stories are his stories from angles and angels
only prescribed for us.
This year , November 22 , 2015, at 6:44 pm~ Our Dad decided it was time to go.
To go where the clouds hug the top of the mountains.
I am greatful to my father for holding on the way he did.
Me , my brother and my little sister & little brother and
mother , all climbed
into his bed as he transitioned into a whole new place.

One of the last times I spoke to my Dad
he asked me to see this movie.
Starry Starry Night



I think he knew he was going home soon.
Nothing can ever prepare one for the finality
of physical absence that happens when
someone passes on.
I know he;s just in the other room, but I can;t
wait to feel his hugs again.


Darling Little Daddy

Raised within the hallways of unrecognized Genius and floating upon the particles of impartial heights.......

can not even remember what video this was- it just feels like everyone feels entitiled to OWN EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE_
who are the true slaves and to what they are tethered to- updated thoughts today 6/23/23 I'm pulling my questions from my shelf I'm asking forgiveness I ain't asking nobody but myself And I want you to know this And I want you to know this [Verse 2] You're rifling through a bunch of toys That were handed down to me Just take out the ones you want and then Give the rest to my family I'm gonna go back to school today But I'm dropping myself off I'm throwing the childhood scenes away I'm through ripping myself off I'm done ripping myself off [Verse 3] Well I'm child and man and child again The toy broken boy soldier I'm child and man then child again The boy never gets older The boy never gets older The boy never gets older The boy never gets older The boy never gets older Never gets older

WTF

L'il Quinquin

My Dad was obsessed with this Movie.
He wanted to know who I thought did it...
I gave him my varied ideas and stories to
prove why & how, I thought WHo'd Dun' it:
but I could never get his answer on whom
he thought committed the murders.

Ulitmate Mother Nature's Doers HERDS ~~~ NoT Herbicides....

He whose Gates are open'd in those Regions of the Body

 Can from those Gates view all these wondrous Imaginations.

William Blake

Meditate

 

NPR Nutritional Morsels

Watch and Pray...what does that MeaN?!

                                   The Whole Month Of August was always with DaD!
The time with him was awesome. We would venture off into the little town of Cambridge, Mass. Hang out in Radcliff Yard,
                                       

 playing frisbee,which was right across the street from my Dads work. 
Dad kept us on a very long leash , however, his spirit, was right on top of us.
There was no such thing as a helicopter parent back then. Times were different.
My perspective of life grew in the month of August.
As my brother and I would venture thru Harvard Square and spend hours in WordsWorth book store, my sense of quiet pondering , replaced the hustle and bustle of a quick thought process of the Greenwich Village streets in manhattan where my mom was raising us.

Perhaps it was Dad's acting, and need for quiet time to study his lines,

or that he was basically a single dude most of the time and

needed his elbow room.

But generally, ELbow rOOM is very Important for anyone.

I am like my Dad.

I remind myself there are those that need people around

24/7.

In that quiet elbow room

I found perspective.

I diverse......

The summer brought perspective 

on so many levels.

Outside pace slowed down in the

small town of Cambridge ,

and

my observations and sensory became

heightened & hypersensitive.

Observing people in the park, learning how to

read lips and body language was one

of my favorite past times.

Still is!

Observing animals, structures,  I become filled up ~

thus my person turns inward. Like a plant that takes

in the water slowly. The water/outside knowledge soaks thru to

my particles ~ lending to new growth on an inside level of my

being.

Comparing, contrasting, taking what I want from those around me,

and understanding thru others mannerisms of 

their body language & responses, what they embrace & what they 

reject. Trying to take note as to what  I want and

what I DO NOT wANt to be.

Wonder to myself. Is this Authentic behavior?

And As the summers with Dad came to an end,

and we all grew up and Life happened, 

this time for reflection and experience

comes in odd ways ~ as "adults life's" are filled

with all the grown up things that seemingly 

muffle any sort of new growth

or perspective for that matter;

In a routine lifestyle of a full time job,

and two adult boys still living at home and

two younger boys that are learning how

to flap their wings,

The rising tides of awareness rush in and thus subside into

barren salt flats.

The months of August very rarely bring many fruits, in my

later years.

Not sure if it was the essence of my fathers

spirit that bled thru fully saturating my entire being.

Soaked and basked in heightened levels of awareness,

however, being "older"

leading a full family life ~

holding strong in routine and structure

~seemingly simple and unchanging ~

 AnY type of new perspective is

somewhat similar to observing

an Iceberg melt.

?????!!!!?????

The Perspectives come upon long glances capsulated

in Time.

However, in these past 15 months,

Since my diagnosis with Grave's Disease,

my struggles have turned into experiences.

My experiences have brought me to new awareness.

To new Perspective.

Coincidence that this all came to me in the

sweet month of August? Huh?!! 

I wonder.

All I know is I am getting better.

Slowly by little I am getting better.

I was listening to NPR.(of course:what else is new!)

And this story about the 

high levels of the hormone Cortisol were

now considered 

the "FOLLOW THRU"for

 cheaters.

Wether you cheat on a test or a spouse.

Heightened levels of Cortisol were considered

responsible for the "Follow Thru" ~

where the thoughts now become the action.

Leaving the body in a heightened 

state of arousal. Which is Invigorating and

allows  release , thus the cortisol levels return to normal upon

completion of the task.

But say the Fight or Flight anxiety , cradled in the

elevated levels of Cortisol, are released

what happens when the follow thru is blocked?

The Distress or free floating anxiety,

does not provide an outlet 

thus the cortisol mechanism backfires.

Our survival as hunters and gatherers has become

sabotaged by this "routine" , sedentary digital age, 

lifestyle.

It;s so strange to me, as I became reintroduced with the 

FULL TIME work force , shortly thereafter,

I became sick.

I wasn;t sure if it was the ink from the printers.

THE Angst of working so closely

with my husband and

my 23 yr.old son, is now my boss

and mentor training me

in graphic design and sign making.

Like living in a salt water fish

tank,,,,

do realize how easily the

environment can become

imbalanced 

thus leaving a nice green algae

growing all over the glass??!!!

The imbalance of a salt water fish tank,

or a body or family life

or the endocrine system is 

something that shouldn;t be taken for

granted.

Never looked at it as an ebb and flow of hormones.

The fight or Flight  momentum of a customer

walking up to the shop door 

and me

thinking to myself

UGHHHHH

I want to run, unsure if I have the skills it takes

to "meet an greet"

the customer

if I can... if I will,,, If I EveN wanT to

 to collect information,

perform the task ,

and get the job done!

The anxiety that I can;t preform:

or god forbid have to Learn a skill......

did this "anxiety",

Push my biology , 

(which was perhaps already

looming upon a genetic default as

my father also has Hyperthyroidism.....)

that this stress was merely  the

Tipping Point?

Enough Anxiety

to catapult my body into a

state of oblivion.

Being on the mends~

hindsight is always 20/20.

The exhaustion that had taken over.

My mind was in a constant haze.

I mean I already struggle with

a dyslexic mind but this mental

fog was looming.

The marionette muscles that had become 

my " new" legs.

The double vision of an

autoimmune disorder~ which attacked the tissues

of my left eye 

pushing the eye off track,

causing a misalignment 

leaving me feeling ugly

and

unable to  have my eyes hold hands and work together

wearing eyeglasses with prisms

so I could see one of you,,,,,,

FIGHT OR FLIGHT?!

Until I heard this story on NPR

NO connections had been made

and now

the question was

WILL I FIGHT FOR MY HEALTH>

or just lay there 

slowly deteriorating?

My energy level was feeling more

like just laying there.

FLIGHT

But being 47,

it's just not right.

The sunshine of the summer

got up

inside of me.

My new found skills at work have 

brought me fulfillment of self

beyond just being a mother.

I wanted to be well,

to be better.

There were many levels 

that

if I were to Heal

I had to face head on.

FIGHT

The whole "food" thing must become a

a way of

life 

physically and mentally

thus spiritually.

I mean it was something I knew

and always considered myself

somewhat healthy,

but REALLY!!!!

!!!!OH BOOOY!!!!

What a Rude Awakening.

This Idea of Hormones 

becoming the DICTATOR within me.....

I began to wonder if the 

Thyroid and the Adrenals

had created

a form of CivilWar

inside my very own body?!!!

There must be a way

to bring peace within.

THE FOLLOW THRU 

momentum

was the only way!

Change is inevitable 

Choice is the Action 

This "AUGUST MIND" set in.

The Salt Flats became a sea

of ideas

intuition became

the New DICTATOR.

Deep down within us all

there's a book

that holds our sacred 

information.

And like a Wizard

with a really long beard....

I set forth

visualizing....

 tugging

on this beard of

knowledge....

my very own inner

wizard holding the

grandbook

of ME~

where all my sacred

particles know....

know the recipe of peace,

the recipe of HOW my 

chemistry went array

thus the particles know how

to untangle

& repair itself.....

The KNOW

The bird above the maze.

The book of particles.

Asking for help

intuitive help

a sort of prayer.

Beyond the need of my Endocrinologist.

I am not above medication

to set this right

the simple aid of Hormones

was a definite Need,

along with strong doses

of vitamin D,

50,000 units once a week,

along with the entire family of B's!

Primrose

Vitamin E

Prunella Herb

Seabuckthorn Berry Oil

Turmeric Milk

with Raw honey

LemonGrass

Vitamin C to break down and disperse

foods properly.....

Selenium

Iodine

Iron

Zinc

Magnesium

The months of prednisone ~ on and off~

The Steroid eye drops & ointments etc etc.....

but  What I am talking 

more about......

 The intuitive needs

in which 

the body requests.

HyperAwareness of what foods

brought me to my knees

that made my joints 

and muscles unable

to perform

HyperAwareness and the power

to make the choice Not to eat

those foods anymore.

There will be no more

gluten

Gluten

 is in everything!

UgH,,,,

which was completely 

depressing!

It took months for this reality to take Root

and

to own 

to be it.

The follow thru requires 

work

CHOICE

is

The "work"

turns out

 no longer to be "work".

Living 

in un managable conditions

became Work

The foods were

OBVIOUSLY connected

 to

feeling like holy hell~

that it just isn't even a question anymore.

The gut is the sanctuary to a healthy

body

thus a healthy mind.

Healthy Eyes.

Scientists have known for years

that elevated cortisol levels interfere with

learning and memory, lower immune

function and bone density, increased weight gain,

blood pressure,cholesterol, heart disease etc.......

Being this a whole new world

to explore

the mind becomes engaged

the task at hand becomes

the target

the follow thru

is forefront 

The other "idea" or perspective

 in which has sprouted from

this whole hormone imbalance

brought me to wonder....

If Cortisol is the FOLLOW THRU hormone

which brings a Thought thru to 

an actual 

Action

then

Is there a Hormone

 that

is responsible

for being

completely 

Anti-Social?

The NON- FOLLOW THRU 

Of sociaLizAtioN!???

I have become hyper aware of

this Anti-Social

blanket that

has completely 

enveloped me.

I have experienced isolation

I have experienced solitude (my favorite)

but this is different.

It's something my father has done for years.

He doesn't return calls.

Somewhat of a Shut In...

Finally reaching out when something in him

gives....

as a hermit crab

hides in his shell

and only comes out when he feels safe!??!!

I even know a bunch of people that have 

this similar

characteristic....

I;m not sure if it's an actual anxiety

that has come over me?!!

it doesn;t feel much like anxiety.

because it's a choice

I am well aware of

the "withdraw Mcgraw".

It' doesn;t feel much like depression.

Tired YEs.

but I do not answer the phone.....

I do not respond to texts.......

I do not partake in social medias

other then this blog.......

When I am around others

I am not Withdrawn

The need to speak on the

phone

I just prefer not to these days.

But in the back of my mind

I feel like I "should" care 

but the worry of losing friends

has been replaced with

A sort of

 a carefree oblivion

a complete disconnect.

the feeling of freedom

in knowing 

I do not have to explain myself

As if I am somewhere

else

has taken root.

Like on a long vacation

I will soon return from,,

Even still understanding the potential loss of

friends 

I take full responsibility 

I understand this perfectly well

It IS indeed ME,

I am missing .

However, I do not feel like

I am missing out.

I am still.

I am quiet.

I still have some crazy stressful days at work.

I still have people I see and speak to

in the isles of the market etc...

that I do not run from,

So I know I am present.

I have simply chosen to

withdraw,

I mean I believe I am feeling much better

thus I am typing

and acknowledging this behavior

However, unable to get the cart behind the

horse.

Is this new form of disconnect related to 

a hormonal imbalance?

Am I truly Happy

or completely depressed an miserable?

Am I merely a frequency Holder?

“Others, after the natural expansion that comes with growing up has run its course, lead an outwardly unremarkable, seemingly more passive and relatively uneventful existence. They are more inward looking by nature, and for them the outward movement into form is minimal. They would rather return home than go out. 

“Some of them find it hard to fit into this world. Some are lucky enough to find a protective niche where they can lead a relatively sheltered life, a job that provides them with a regular income or a small business of their own. 

"In past ages, they would probably have been called contemplatives. There is no place for them, it seems, in our contemporary civilization. On the arising new earth, however, their role is just as vital as that of the creators, the doers, the reformers. Their function is to anchor the frequency of the new consciousness on the planet. I call them frequency-holders. They are here to generate consciousness through the activities of daily life, through their interactions as well as through 'just being.' 

“In this way, they endow the seemingly insignificant with profound meaning. Their task is to bring spacious stillness into this world by being absolutely present in whatever they do. There is consciousness and therefore quality in what they do, even the simplest task. Their purpose is to do everything in a sacred manner. As each human being is an integral part of the collective human consciousness, they affect the world much more deeply than is visible on the surface of their lives." 

Eckhard Tolle - "A New Earth"