Put something new into the world!

I've been thinking a lot about creativity lately, and I admit that I am tapped. Creativity is probably my strongest muscle-I am was always making stories, cutting up magazines and photos for collages, singing while dancing around the house, having elaborate conversations that take place between my animals... etc- and it is atrophying. School, working, responsibility, life... it is sucking me dry. The fact that I sat down to write about Rachel Alexandra and had nothing to say really struck me. Watching her race has probably been the coolest thing that I have consistently done this year, and I remember every detail.

*Pulling over to the side of the road so that I could close my eyes and listen to the Kentucky Oaks on the radio, my minds eye seeing every step of grace and beauty.
*Roadtripping to a "local" racetrack to watch her run in the Preakness, surrounded by grizzled old gamblers who were cheering her on with emotion rarely seen in jaded old men. Little girls and their mothers, wearing pink and holding up "Go Rachel" signs, a mother passing on her passion to her daughters, or being drawn back into a love of horses by their offspring's interest.
*Running against the girls again, Rachel clearly outclasses them, telling the world she is ready for a bigger challenge.
*Shoving schoolwork to the side on Haskel day to watch Rachel again take on the boys. The racetrack was packed, again with little girls, mother's, people young and old waving signs in support of their favorite horse, who indeed "runs like a girl." It brought back memories of myself as a child, with my Serena's Song poster that I made especially to watch (on TV, I don't know who I thought was going to see that sign!) her take on the boys in the 1995 Haskel. She did not disappoint; neither did Rachel.
*And then, the Woodword. Having conquered all other worlds, Queen Rachel set her sites on another- racing against older male horses. No matter what she did, I would not have been disappointed. She could have tried her best, run dead last, and I don't think she would have lost one single fan. But I so desperately wanted to see her win; she deserved to conquer the next world. And those boys did not give her an inch, pressuring her the whole way, launching challenge after challenge. For a few moments down the stretch, I thought I was Calvin Borel and bounced up and down on the couch, flailing my arms as I willed her to hold those boys off to the line. And Woodword day will go down in history as the first time that a 3 year old filly beat older horses in a dirt route race in New York. It will as go down as the day that M learned that sitting next to me when I am watching a horse race is dangerous.

So, creativity. Creativity is necessary to making sure that events like this are properly documented. A hundred years from now, the only way anyone will be able to understand what we all felt watching Rachel live will be by reading what was written about her. Looking at photography. Watching race replays. Viewing art she inspired (and believe me, it is already out there!). Creativity applies elsewhere too- in our whole lives, and how we relate to people. Nothing ever goes by the book, and without taking a creative approach, where will we be left?

This thought inspired one of the classes that I am taking this semester, a social work class that is all about therapeutic creativity. I added this class on a whim because it was upper division and I liked the title, and I am so glad that I did. Nothing is by the book, and we discuss helping people through art, music, theatre, pet therapy.... anything that outside of the box! My project for this week was to create a piece of art representing an aspect of my therapeutic interest; I spent two lovely evenings representing the human-animal bond through art. This project was so soothing, the stress of my other classes and work just melted away. So, there is my resolution and suggestion to the world- sing, draw pictures, write a story, do Mad Libs!

Your sanity will thank me!

Queen Rachel Alexandra

Dear God-

I know I have registered a lot of complaints with you about being born in the wrong time. "Why, God, oh why was I not alive in the seventies, to see the likes of Secretariat, Forego, Ruffian, Seattle Slew, Affirmed, Alydar, Spectacular Bid...." Really God, I thought you were out of your mind, or playing a mean trick on me- to give someone this much of a love for horses and racing, and then not let her see some of the greats LIVE AND IN PERSON? You heard this complaint MANY times, to a different tune "Why couldn't I see the greats of the 40's? Turn of the century?" Whine, whine, whine... occasionally inturupted with praise for Cigar, Serena's Song, Smarty Jones, Zenyatta, Ouija Board, etc... I am REALLY annoying.

Well, God, clearly you knew what you were doing. I will never question you again, and want to thank you for allowing me to be alive to see Rachel Alexandra, horse racing's newly anointed queen.

There is not a horse alive of any age who can touch her. I've started many, many posts about Rachel, and just can not capture her in words. All I can do is thank you, God, that one day when generations to come lament the fact that they were not able to see her live, I will be able to smile, teary-eyed and remember 2009 as the year of Rachel.

Sorry, your blush reflex disqualifies you from that position.

I am now four weeks back into school, and I have already discovered several things about my future plans that I did not know.

1) Organizational Psychology is not for me. I don't care how many times you throw terms "behavioral" or "cognitive functioning" around, this is NOT Psychology. All I have learned this semester is that when you try to train people, they are not going to listen to you, mostly because they are all looking for a higher-paying job anyway. Unless, of course, you spend millions turning all corporate training into super-fun video games, which tricks people into paying attention. Oh, and you always must trick people into thinking they have advanced, even when they haven't, or else they will be sad and leave for higher paying jobs when you have already spent millions training them. Seriously, that is what I am taking away from this particular learning experience. Organizational Psychologists, ye are saints!

2) Sex therapist? OK, first let me ask you this. Is there some sort of medical procedure I could undergo to fry off the blood vessels in my face to prevent blushing? Clearly, I am not meant to talk to people about their erectile dysfunction or undying love for a vacuum cleaner, because you could have fried an egg on my face when I read that chapter. I mean, I blush when someone asks me where I bought my jeans, what would happen if a patient asked me where to buy a vibrator??? When presented with a case study asking 1) What diagnosis would be given and 2) What treatment options should be tried, it took everything in me just to TYPE, "To help overcome her inhibitions about sex, patient X should try saying or screaming aloud how she feels during arousal." Yup, see? I am blushing now. While interesting, this could not be a future career.

3) I always thought that I would be a child psychologist, for many reasons. Drawing from my own experiences as a child, I know there is a great need for people to help those who can not help themselves. Then, as I worked more and more with people in all stages of grief over their pets- diagnosis to treatment to eventual death of this beloved family member, I thought, "This might be for me- this could be an area where I could really help someone." And then, mental illness in general is just so fascinating to me, and people suffer so greatly from it, perhaps I should seek a general counseling degree, where I can help everyone!
And then I read a chapter about behavioral medicine, and am further fascinated. Doubling the lifespan of cancer patients through group therapy? It really happened, in replicated studies! Integrating physiological, psychological and behavioral factors has lead to some very cool, very helpful treatments- and the field is growing. How cool is that???

It seems like the more I 'know' what I want, the less I am actually sure of. Can't I just be everything???

Line in the Sand

Dear Cats,
I understand that you think that you are very mistreated. I mean, you could live with the meager scratching posts (three), cat trees (two), beds (six), and other toys (8 million) with moderate complaining, but the food situation? Ack! What cruel twist of fate stuck you with a mom who refuses to allow you to each weigh 35#, thus denying you the joys of diabetes and arthritis? Much less the joy of living in a cardboard box, because spending $24,000 a year on cat food would leave little for the frivolous things like a home or electricity!

Cats, while I realize this is hard for you, this living off 3/4 cup of dry food, 1/2 can of wet food and treats every day, you are going to have to suck it up. I don't care how hungry you still are, nothing, and I mean NOTHING, gives you the right to steal my chocolate chip cookies off the counter while I am in the bathroom.

Love always,
Your harried mom

Moving Day

Welcome to my new blog home. Questions anyone?

Crazy Girl! Why did you start a new blog?
Well, when I started Musings and Ventilation, I was in an unhappy place in my life. I just wanted a place to vent, and perhaps even sort through the patterns to see what it was, exactly, that was making me so unhappy. And then there were days that I just wanted to write- put a little bit out there in the world about something that I truly loved, or was especially touched by that day. As things about my situation started to shift, I began to shy away from my blog- we just didn't fit together anymore. It was a lovely relationship, but we grew apart. It was a amicable break-up though, one where we can occasionally run into each other on the street and share an ice cream sundae, chatting about life.

Well, glad you guys can still be friends. What's up with this new title???
This may make me sound a little crazy, but it stems from a coping mechanism of mine. When I start to get anxious/overwhelmed/overstimulated, I take a deep breath focus on 'me is who i am.' I don't know how it came about, but it works as a calming thing on many levels. I am someone who can handle anything, so why be stressed? If I do fail, it's a part of me and will make me a better person. If something does go wrong, there are tons of other things that will go right. Again, this weird little meditation came from somewhere higher than me, and I can't really explain it, but it works.

So why didn't you call the site "Me is Who I Am?"
Cuz someone else had taken it. I guess the universe spoke to them as well.

So what will you write about here?
Life. School. Work. My pets. Horse racing. Whatever I have learned or felt that day. Nothing earth shattering, nothing terribly interesting.... just me. And who I am.