tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38476195875975888522024-03-18T15:39:17.938-07:00Naja Tau's Dream DiaryNaja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-40270923662780302782024-03-18T10:10:00.000-07:002024-03-18T10:10:56.109-07:00Excited about experimenting and sharing what I love. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5wmSJmHd4iboLMcuCqXzyQHwj6kUSUrIQe_5I4NZ5vwhCSSw6sc0lkvX3Rautrqdl_K7Rmce9MrQtDZkHD4R52KCwpFHceb5nrKLOINXkaTLwIe5QGlNDKXrrhPmj4b4iMHraNeAx05HjL4I4UlASyBpz6W8UJSINgAM1Tdl6UZAgerC4XcFzSRFum2X5/s1024/shamrock%20cake.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5wmSJmHd4iboLMcuCqXzyQHwj6kUSUrIQe_5I4NZ5vwhCSSw6sc0lkvX3Rautrqdl_K7Rmce9MrQtDZkHD4R52KCwpFHceb5nrKLOINXkaTLwIe5QGlNDKXrrhPmj4b4iMHraNeAx05HjL4I4UlASyBpz6W8UJSINgAM1Tdl6UZAgerC4XcFzSRFum2X5/s320/shamrock%20cake.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>Happy St. Patrick's Day (or, more likely for you, a day or so after St. Patrick's Day)!</p><p>I wish I'd planned a little better for this holiday! I would have found a good recipe online and gone to the store and bought some corned beef and cabbage. Instead, I just played around with some St. Patrick's Day prompts on Midjourney. </p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I go into an old, independently-owned music shop. One of my favorite people in the world is there. He shows me something he's been working on: a stringed instrument that has little purple "socks" over the strings. He plays it for me. He pulls the socks down at different times, and the instrument makes different noises. I'm surprised! That's pretty cool. He is very original. </p><p>I look around a little more and something <i>really</i> catches my eye: paintings done with a red-orange paint that almost seems to glow on the page. I would <i>really</i> like to experiment with that color, that texture, that material myself. I make a mental note to look for it at the crafts store next time I'm there.</p><p>But I have to leave because I have a presentation to do. I'm going to offer a presentation in front of a large group of people about one of my favorite characters: Seven of Nine from <i>Star Trek: Voyager</i>. I'm a little embarrassed, because I'm not sure who else will like this character, but I'm also feeling great about being able to share what I know just because I'm passionate on the topic. And that turns my nervousness into excitement and some degree of confidence. I go into the large, futuristic, Cathedral-like room and make my way to the front with my notes.</p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>I think that ever since I left California, I get these occasional urges to experiment with artistic materials I find really beautiful or interesting. I think I used to be much more excited about the concepts in my artwork than playing with physical, sensory materials. Now, especially with the advent of AI art, I think it's more important that it feels good to make your art instead of making it look incredible. </p><p>The person in the music shop is one of my favorite people in real life too. It's very uncommon for me to meet someone and almost instantly have this great, amazing feeling about them, but I think I felt that way about him within 30 minutes of being in his presence. And I haven't felt conflicted about adoring him in the many years I've known him now--also very unusual for me. </p><p>I also think I'm getting a little less embarrassed about sharing the work I do, which is a great feeling. But in real life, it's more like taking little baby steps rather than confidently striding down a great hall with notes in hand. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-11330037739550145032024-03-15T00:00:00.000-07:002024-03-15T00:00:00.133-07:00Dream Diary giveaway this weekend! March 16-17 PT. (news)<p>Hey, everybody! </p><p>I goofed! I did not download my own books for Kindle when I was doing free Kindle giveaways. So I need to run giveaways to pick them up now.</p><p>The first and second dream diary collections are going to be free to download this Saturday and Sunday (March 16-17) from midnight to midnight, Pacific Time. </p><p>These two books are just collections of blog posts like this one, so if you like reading my dream blog posts, you might like these "archived" posts!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SQI9ZFO" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="10740" data-original-width="7284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCMhinwQ5KcesCNJ1HmIb26t2PUHuaVII1a9uDIlaTNd8VJlfHNAgohxffPEDLfKgcqPpENndo52AcgU5Qkzvk0Wx-IfrqqfV0oCBTDqMGL_ix7WtQdgup23tJ0SQI72UwWNxAaDYjjCg2w823xp9Yq2-rAkwOjY8an-Yk9grPAY53XMKCd5F8mFdisMK/s320/DreamCatcherCover5.JPG" width="217" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SQI9ZFO">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SQI9ZFO</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZXNMMMQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1563" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOG_u37NqHeCWmiltDpwp4yMpgRSb2_z32EKxbrVZ4qO5rNbTyX3nZbq36BS-VTGy0O8tGdR011cA5RG8ywVo3zwPTr2BAqmVAmR_zg3MCd9dKtOGi30sg4n4wXm72PaiAw9RY0d08tq4ogaixepHUTkiJUgvKqM3ClrYGpBc3r1tS_7T43FL38Lq5SqHU/s320/Dream%20Diary%202%20cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u>https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZXNMMMQ</u></span></span></div><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-29678872289636511692024-03-13T23:00:00.000-07:002024-03-14T19:44:46.177-07:00Surprise! My first audiobook is now available! (news)<p>After over a month of work, I am excited to present to you: <i>Satyr Plays</i> -- the audiobook!</p><p>This audiobook is 3.5 hours long, narrated by me, and is currently available on Amazon's Audible app/website for $14.95 USD (Audible sets the price).</p><p>I've been told that hearing me read adds something to my writing, so even if the book doesn't appeal to you, you can listen to the audiobook sample to see if a performance might interest you more than words on a page.</p><p>Just a warning: I thought I was done with tragedy until I played back my British accent. You've got to cut me a break on that--it's either me doing a really strange RP/Scouse/American accent mix, or nobody. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/B0CXZC3SFK/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-390413&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_390413_rh_us" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="2400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHoLO41Sfzlp71TssYb4sOyv6xkSQV4Igf5gBMDYXEWkQmY4anhHgUIY9xDKF3ZTK1yQSEBHY6WZdN8pCefaj97uH0WBD2QR9sjPaEAiUFRvgqeDaTYRKgz0dsomGb9u8-CzC7-ztPa_ndBhpbuXioR9YTZhGYvTtympopjxUUIkWP8M8QMC8DXxFe8EO/s320/cover2.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/B0CXZC3SFK/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-390413&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_390413_rh_us">https://www.audible.com/pd/B0CXZC3SFK/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-390413&ref=acx_bty_BK_ACX0_390413_rh_us</a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-11352046667672281462024-03-09T09:41:00.000-08:002024-03-09T11:17:12.426-08:00The glittering ballerina, floating in space. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPx0zICAZwurFpW3et3byNJWXulK4mEICrmV0dsVyh0NCnERQW-RKNCuen0LzmXmfJZt04W7AzxZ6dlrezdpRgH27UT95ceyaLNI2u93yo3_2xYa_tL__kYSNFsoxiQCfmDNXMpG_vLe0AA6AN9Z7MB7ufn47EJipISSwOODDkyeLtoHENq6IJADaTXVy/s404/ballerina%20in%20space.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="404" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPx0zICAZwurFpW3et3byNJWXulK4mEICrmV0dsVyh0NCnERQW-RKNCuen0LzmXmfJZt04W7AzxZ6dlrezdpRgH27UT95ceyaLNI2u93yo3_2xYa_tL__kYSNFsoxiQCfmDNXMpG_vLe0AA6AN9Z7MB7ufn47EJipISSwOODDkyeLtoHENq6IJADaTXVy/s320/ballerina%20in%20space.webp" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></div><div><br /></div><div>DREAM</div><div><br /></div>I enter a large university, and see a friend from a job I had a long, long time ago at the front desk. My tongue swells to the point that I'm constantly chewing the sides of it. I try to stop, but I can't. <div><br /></div><div>My friend is overflowing with excitement and enthusiasm, and she convinces me to take ballet, because I've always wanted to. She says I won't live forever. </div><div><br /></div><div>She drives me to class in an open jeep as the building is falling apart around us in huge, concrete chunks. The sky is space, and I see a large projection of a glittering, pink ballerina floating in front of me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I really get the sense that life is short, and I am glad I'm living it to the fullest while I can.<div><br /></div><div>INTERPRETATION</div><div><br /></div><div>There's a part of this dream that's straight-forward, and a part that I'm not so sure about. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've wanted to take adult ballet classes for many years now, but I'm intimidated because of my weight and age. After this dream, I'm starting to wonder if I'm really going to regret not doing it!</div><div><br /></div><div>I think the crumbling building symbolizes how we're coming a little bit closer to death every day.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the swollen tongue I kept chewing on is strange. I woke up and did not have a problem with my tongue. Once we rule out a literal, physical problem intruding on the dream, I think the interpretation that leaps to mind first is that words are being held back. But in the dream, I didn't feel an urgency about saying anything. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe the tongue is more a symbol of a health scare, and doing what you can in spite of failing health. That fits in better with the themes of life being short, and the crumbling building. </div><div><br /></div><div>For me, one of the strange things about getting older and realizing that some of my parts are starting to wear down is the increased sense of peace and gratitude I feel, generally-speaking. Maybe it's because I've learned to manage my mind and body better with time. Maybe it's because I have the comfort of stable relationships I can rely on. Maybe it's because I have enough statistical information to realize things usually work out fine. Or maybe it's because I realize things are coming to a close, and there were, and will always be, a lot of very simple, ordinary, nice things about the experience of living to focus on. Maybe it's all of those things. But in the dream, I felt that same kind of peace and excitement--amplified, in spite of the building collapsing.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-87207656141377629392024-02-11T21:32:00.000-08:002024-02-11T21:32:36.904-08:00Being intensely thankful for grace. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggd1hPtqonaYrjgQT9BA87g9c_K2KxKIFOb7wfjAZIJ8pBOAVQAkhyxy_4IN2jm0uPIHfZmkl5ELwaiVkvDbLuBusFBW6ZWCv-PE9InvQuRsl_subOofsvAxW4JYLA5fcsvrXCjxaKRD492KZjNMZ1c6_pTbBDcrLse4XoCOqSlmJ5dwIGY6014cimrCX7/s1024/fast%20food%20worker.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggd1hPtqonaYrjgQT9BA87g9c_K2KxKIFOb7wfjAZIJ8pBOAVQAkhyxy_4IN2jm0uPIHfZmkl5ELwaiVkvDbLuBusFBW6ZWCv-PE9InvQuRsl_subOofsvAxW4JYLA5fcsvrXCjxaKRD492KZjNMZ1c6_pTbBDcrLse4XoCOqSlmJ5dwIGY6014cimrCX7/s320/fast%20food%20worker.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I am a new hire at a fast food restaurant. </p><p>Someone who hurt me very badly who I'd grown up with is my boss. </p><p>He has me do several tasks, and even though we are both polite to each other, I am wildly uncomfortable being around him. </p><p>Then I get in a car with my mother, and she starts driving erratically. She runs over a little toddler who had exited the family van and was standing in the turn lane. I scream, horrified. </p><p>We look around town, and I wonder if I would live here. </p><p>Then we park, and I realize she has dementia. </p><p>The mother of the girl we ran over followed us. She comes up to my window. I'm terrified. In an effort to explain ourselves, I say, "She has dementia!" To my surprise and relief, the woman seems to understand and forgive us. She walks away. </p><p>I don't know what to do about my mom's dementia, but I know she can't keep driving.</p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>I am doing a lot of guided lovingkindness meditation along to videos on YouTube. Lovingkindness meditation is a type of Buddhist meditation in which you try to expand your circle of compassion and love to encircle all beings. </p><p><i>All</i>. That's a very tall order for me, and I think I'm not alone in that. But recently, I will think about people who have hurt me very badly in the past, and I will either put them out of my mind for a while during meditation, or if I feel up to it, I will try to include them in my circle of compassion. </p><p>It's hard for me to accept the fact that people do vile things, while wishing them well at the same time. I asked ChatGPT about this, and it gave a stellar answer. Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted that answer. I thought I could always get the same response again, so I didn't copy it elsewhere, but it's different now. Oh well. </p><p>What I really took away from the chatbot's answer was that lovingkindness meditation implies that love has transformative powers--even if it's just love cultivated in your own heart. Eventually, that love you carry with you shows up in the wider world. And it can do you good to have faith that people can change. The answer also encouraged moving beyond the shallowness of judgements warped with one's own pain to trying to view hurtful actions as a result of suffering in a vast, interconnected system of life. </p><p>So I think that's why I'm dreaming about someone who hurt me. I'm trying to have more compassion. But I still don't know exactly how to handle feelings of resentment that keep cropping up now and then. </p><p>I am, however, incredibly thankful for grace for my own messes, as symbolized by the mother who forgave us for running over her child. </p><p>And I am trying to figure out how to be <i>wise</i> when dealing with people--harmful people, too. </p><p>I'm also scared of dementia. I know so many people's parents who have dementia at this point. It's always sad. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-66742959962620341492024-02-06T21:12:00.000-08:002024-02-06T21:12:54.246-08:00An area in which I would like to improve. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzsarbG0Sm_P-N7tiIt3npVI0ysDIkgBdgBzIX8PfpyVjY_3pUgv8tnRs4HZLj1hK-hlTYAR6e542DTeayRfeHRnUQg5UQqaESpnzh4DWdQI3iLbNdMkKpKQZWqc4IuOG03soz8dQbSn0DXaHham4QeEuysIIqSzMW55Ni0MJH1PeSnwToakyjfTCFDICI/s1024/communication.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzsarbG0Sm_P-N7tiIt3npVI0ysDIkgBdgBzIX8PfpyVjY_3pUgv8tnRs4HZLj1hK-hlTYAR6e542DTeayRfeHRnUQg5UQqaESpnzh4DWdQI3iLbNdMkKpKQZWqc4IuOG03soz8dQbSn0DXaHham4QeEuysIIqSzMW55Ni0MJH1PeSnwToakyjfTCFDICI/s320/communication.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I am interpreting the results of computer programs for a more general audience. This is my job. And I start off being extremely diplomatic. I massage my answers into a yes or no format, which is the level of simplicity my audience wants, and I give programmers the benefit of the doubt with regard to their intentions for the program. </p><p>But something within me snaps, and I become determined to give the full-bodied, complex, nuanced answer, even if my audience won't follow as easily. I voice my doubts about the programmers' intentions for the programs too.</p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>I think I had this dream because the job I want to work towards requires communicating very technical information clearly and concisely to a general audience. That is something I need to improve at if I want to be good at this career. </p><p>What I've tended to do with technical information in the past is to say way too much that doesn't get to the point of why the person I'm talking to needs the information. I think I do this when I get nervous, or haven't practiced enough, and also when I don't understand my topic well enough. </p><p>I'm thankful for this dream for trying to put me on the right track! Maybe I can ask ChatGPT to help me rehearse.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-41450313524898236872024-01-31T21:16:00.000-08:002024-01-31T21:25:25.444-08:00Living a High Vibration Life, by ChatGPT (rants)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEP3Fi3O9oNOP-5jqmjLTFyGsJ2Km_nGdGYNxGax4ghYFfAxUgxoZIrF5PyigYsXZPWrUVEa51Xa8XPpsHs8Ih4zo1XoNRj9cAeJKfi3KrZcuRcEXjaaEy0KCr0QNQOW2GipUPrAJLMRC7sp8se_X1fU877M5go53s6XWckSrtF6sRJPDyhGHZyiRCZVe/s4288/Anahola-Beach-Kauai-Trailblazer.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4288" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEP3Fi3O9oNOP-5jqmjLTFyGsJ2Km_nGdGYNxGax4ghYFfAxUgxoZIrF5PyigYsXZPWrUVEa51Xa8XPpsHs8Ih4zo1XoNRj9cAeJKfi3KrZcuRcEXjaaEy0KCr0QNQOW2GipUPrAJLMRC7sp8se_X1fU877M5go53s6XWckSrtF6sRJPDyhGHZyiRCZVe/s320/Anahola-Beach-Kauai-Trailblazer.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Anahola Beach, Kauai by </i></span><i>Janine Sprout, CC BY-SA 4.0 <<a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0">https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0</a>>, via Wikimedia Commons</i></div><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I asked ChatGPT how to live a high vibration life, and its answer was too good not to share!</span></h2><p><br /></p><p>Living life at a high vibration generally means maintaining a positive and fulfilling life, characterized by optimism, gratitude, and a sense of purpose. Here are some steps you can take:</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">1. **Mindfulness and Meditation:** </h2><div style="text-align: left;">Regular practice of mindfulness and meditation can help you maintain a peaceful and positive state of mind. This involves being present in the moment and aware of your thoughts and feelings without judgment.</div><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">2. **Gratitude:** </h2><p>Cultivating gratitude can significantly increase your life satisfaction. Consider keeping a gratitude journal where you regularly write down things you're thankful for.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">3. **Healthy Lifestyle:** </h2><p>A balanced diet, regular exercise, and adequate sleep are crucial for physical and mental well-being. This also includes avoiding excessive alcohol and refraining from substance abuse.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">4. **Positive Relationships:** </h2><p>Surround yourself with people who uplift and support you. Positive social interactions can greatly contribute to a high vibrational living.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">5. **Personal Growth:** </h2><p>Engage in activities that promote personal growth, such as reading, learning new skills, or pursuing hobbies and interests that inspire you.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">6. **Acts of Kindness:** </h2><p>Doing good for others without expecting anything in return can raise your spirits and contribute to a sense of community and connectedness.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">7. **Connect with Nature:** </h2><p>Spending time in nature can be incredibly grounding and healing. It helps in reducing stress and boosting mood.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">8. **Spiritual Practices:** </h2><p>If you're inclined, engaging in spiritual practices that resonate with you can provide a sense of peace and purpose.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">9. **Positive Affirmations:** </h2><p>Using positive affirmations can help shift your mindset to a more optimistic and positive outlook.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">10. **Limit Negative Influences:** </h2><p>Be mindful of the media you consume and the conversations you engage in. Limit exposure to negativity where possible.</p><p><br /></p><p>Remember, it's a personal journey, and what works for one person might not work for another. It's important to find practices that resonate with you and fit into your life naturally.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-21854795007343232002024-01-17T10:37:00.000-08:002024-01-17T10:37:48.555-08:00Going to Vegas to sing in a choir at a fairy casino. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjZ8NrlVkzWr73D6mm7PUaympvcb-A5_KQw80-ZnQmLHHELjnzILE6vZ3Fya4-rrtNEvafCSsx8MW4tzDfUCMfvSwYRbsOXIEupWNMWErQGUFkjLeebOH2v7UBI5k_cEkeM4U4Y60Ljzf__OVvmdn1DoWs7WD6UZ3tSwWfDVu4Z0e9Hb8ENSt1BBieDzd/s1024/vegas.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjZ8NrlVkzWr73D6mm7PUaympvcb-A5_KQw80-ZnQmLHHELjnzILE6vZ3Fya4-rrtNEvafCSsx8MW4tzDfUCMfvSwYRbsOXIEupWNMWErQGUFkjLeebOH2v7UBI5k_cEkeM4U4Y60Ljzf__OVvmdn1DoWs7WD6UZ3tSwWfDVu4Z0e9Hb8ENSt1BBieDzd/s320/vegas.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>DREAM</div><div><br /></div>I'm at my step grandparents' house, and me, and the whole extended family are all packed to go on a trip to Vegas together. I realize I might have time to put on my makeup when some people start dilly dallying. I've just been running around with copper eyeshadow for a long time. It makes me look washed out, and like I've been crying.<div><br /></div><div>Now, I take some black eyeliner out of my bag and start applying it. I take out a small liner brush, wet it with some water, and swirl it in the black powder. I apply the powder to my eyes. Unfortunately, the pigment is a sickly, clumpy gray. I try again. Nothing. I try a marker liner. That works a little better, but not much. </div><div><br /></div><div>We hit the road and make it to our performance venue in Vegas. We're going to be singing in a choir. We're exploring some of the rooms in the building. It's a casino, basically. </div><div><br /></div><div>I overhear from some fairies flying around the giant elevator that the last person to add to a clothes pile is the one that has to be gotten rid of in order to get rid of the unsightly pile. I add my nail polish to the clothes pile, hoping it will be very hard to notice the change. I don't want to be targeted for whatever they plan to do to this person, but if they're going to target someone in my family, I'd prefer it was me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I get off on a floor, and start walking outside in the winter. I see one of our dogs. He's frozen solid. Another of our dogs runs around. I bring the frozen dog back inside while calling the other dog, hoping he'll come--and he does. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>INTERPRETATION</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been thinking about my step grandparents a lot. They're really amazing people, and they make me feel like I'm a part of their family. I like them very much. The only biological grandmother I ever met was violent at many, many points in her life, and very unpleasant in general, so it's really nice to have more kind, considerate people in my life. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've only seen my step grandparents during special occasions like the holidays, and all the ladies in the family wear makeup, and it's an important ritual to them (or so I'm told). I haven't worn makeup in a very long time, so I guess I'm a little insecure about my skills at this point. </div><div><br /></div><div>And my indoor cat escaped recently, and I had to get him back. He ran straight up a tree. That's kind of like chasing after dogs. </div><div><br /></div><div>All in all, a pretty random dream. I even dreamed about dirty laundry in this one.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-42888877097731013762024-01-10T08:06:00.000-08:002024-01-11T18:47:41.976-08:00Grocery store bags that are poisoning everyone. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-fHPG_dF-hrmxj3dV7vAGQDPolMKFkDUnroNMYbtyfO_xgafg7EF-suNxT0fPIa0Dmz-HeEkU1APxj8clo0ml7GX7JhnO17k0GSbNhcszQznlictFKkCme5cx_ge5QXvMBHyQ5jPQL2Uk7zGVllPTyetYbInerdEzsb92n0lyvtXVjmrRDITE3JrxUZl/s1024/grocery%20bags.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-fHPG_dF-hrmxj3dV7vAGQDPolMKFkDUnroNMYbtyfO_xgafg7EF-suNxT0fPIa0Dmz-HeEkU1APxj8clo0ml7GX7JhnO17k0GSbNhcszQznlictFKkCme5cx_ge5QXvMBHyQ5jPQL2Uk7zGVllPTyetYbInerdEzsb92n0lyvtXVjmrRDITE3JrxUZl/s320/grocery%20bags.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p>I dreamed about my Amazon wishlist again. I guess that's not too surprising since I often surf Amazon at night on my phone up until the second I can no longer keep my eyes open. </p><p>In this dream, I was watching people bag groceries at a self checkout. They were all using plastic bags. A voice over talked about about how plastic bags are made with chlorine gas, and they're slowly poisoning everyone who's using them. It's seeping through cardboard and saran wrap and people's clothes are picking up the poison, and it's all perfectly legal. No one intends to change this any time soon.</p><p>In real life, I've spent the last couple of days debating whether or not to buy one or another pack of 6-18 reusable nylon bags. In my city, there's no ordinance against plastic bags, but some individual stores will charge you for plastic bags. Reusing nylon bags also just seems a lot nicer for the environment. </p><p>Plus, I will get to shop and spend money if I buy these nylon bags! So I really want to do it. (Let's just forget about the fact that I have at least five reusable totes already.)</p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-55410531780705878632024-01-09T13:33:00.000-08:002024-01-09T13:33:09.587-08:00Voting for my city's next "Representative for the Arts." (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGmJK3i2yjobckbp1EhIY7PHZPjlIM83XARAPORiTIvc2TGF7zTiwGsRW8pO3YKKq0YnIvMeUVKNNl2tQgfoppS7Xz0-kGF72i1x6cK_OSvy8AfwF7Ez-HbY2QqCUi_ZdiM5GQqNunWzQQdTEB6lIkyjNBMHpuj8P1-8OYlnZVyYOc69M36PplME5d_NT/s1024/gallery.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGmJK3i2yjobckbp1EhIY7PHZPjlIM83XARAPORiTIvc2TGF7zTiwGsRW8pO3YKKq0YnIvMeUVKNNl2tQgfoppS7Xz0-kGF72i1x6cK_OSvy8AfwF7Ez-HbY2QqCUi_ZdiM5GQqNunWzQQdTEB6lIkyjNBMHpuj8P1-8OYlnZVyYOc69M36PplME5d_NT/s320/gallery.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I'm traveling in a car with two middle aged men who want to run for my city council's "Representative for the Arts." One of them is a film and theater director from California. I see snippets of his plays and films, and those are quite good. Another one of them is some other out of towner. I'm not really sure exactly what he does. Maybe something like plein air painting. I only see little snippets. And then I find out that my old creative writing teacher is also running. </p><p>She's clearly not marketing herself as well as the other two, so I wonder if she really wants the position. I didn't take this election seriously until I saw her name, so I start looking into it. Apparently, it's some city-appointed guide for all the city's arts for a year. They help put on arts events. I imagine her visual art, and her writing, and the plays she would put on, and it sounds really, really interesting. I wonder if it would have an impact! I'm excited for the possibilities and plan to vote for her.</p><p>Then, I see Bruce Wayne having lunch with the Joker. Then Bruce Wayne turns into a sad Joker, and drops cubic zirconiums onto the ground before leaving early. Harley Quinn scrambles to pick them up. I pick up some of the ones at my feet, and they don't even look like cubic zirconium. They look like plastic.</p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>I added some professors' self-published books to my Amazon wishlist as I was taking their classes, and I scrolled past them recently. I guess I really want my creative writing teacher to "win" with her creative work--to have an impact. I didn't think her book was marketed as well as the other teacher's, but I felt for her. I wanted people to buy from her--to "vote" for her.</p><p>I feel as though the Batman part of the dream kind of relates to how my surroundings are a mess. Stuff is just... everywhere, and their disorganization just makes them feel like junk.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-74859949082169809402024-01-03T07:42:00.000-08:002024-01-03T07:42:30.874-08:00The lively bed of sea urchins in the psychologist's office. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCQwHawIeK5csTCj-4bTOmQRtSvHTusgBbmPcTUXvB-ADvya5o29yky28jY0wCQe8J823edWxPMoJCMur3wG-64R-SN5omB0gGzmdiEWYLsD7nMVm8Ye5PZTPZavC37ROvlOUlRJmW8Xe4gJIrMF7ewSEWO_26VfldK4yyZOtH5CM30BKfuaC6uqxc3PD/s1024/urchins.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCQwHawIeK5csTCj-4bTOmQRtSvHTusgBbmPcTUXvB-ADvya5o29yky28jY0wCQe8J823edWxPMoJCMur3wG-64R-SN5omB0gGzmdiEWYLsD7nMVm8Ye5PZTPZavC37ROvlOUlRJmW8Xe4gJIrMF7ewSEWO_26VfldK4yyZOtH5CM30BKfuaC6uqxc3PD/s320/urchins.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I'm living in a mansion, and I run down the stairs because I want to check out a book at the library. I keep running in my mansion, and I eventually arrive at an elementary school. I accidentally walk into a large locker room which is empty. </p><p>I see a little boy and a black kitten showering together, and I hear someone say something along the lines of, "Watch out for that little boy. He's attacked so many kittens, he's forgotten them. So when people ask if he's seen the missing cat, he can convincingly say he doesn't remember."</p><p>The little boy and kitten disappear, and the locker room is empty. </p><p>A series of little girls aged 5 and under then come up to me and start biting my arm. I shove them off of me. Finally, an older girl of about seven comes up to me and bites me really hard--it's painful. So I grab her by her jacket and the seat of her pants, and I throw her from off the side of the school roof. She hits a table really hard, and I know I'm in trouble. </p><p>I run back to my mansion, but I end up in the school psychologist's office. There's a bed of sea urchins all over a cloth canvas that stretches across the office. </p><p>The counselor gives me a tangerine crayon and a coloring book picture of a lion to fill in. She starts coloring it, but I would do it differently than she is. So I get up to get another crayon. I cross the cloth full of sea urchins, although they stick to my clothes, and wrap around a pen I grabbed along with my new crayon. I'm talking to the counselor as I do all this.</p><p>She frowns. "Can you please stop talking?"</p><p>I'm really offended that she's asked me to stop talking, but I've been annoyed by someone talking too much too, so I stop. But I just think she's a bad counselor. </p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>I'm in an anxious kind of mood lately, so I think these are just little fears that I have all thrown together. I'm scared of being in charge of abusive people who need disciplining and injured beings who need extra special care afterwards (like the little boy with the kittens), because I am not good at disciplining people who are misbehaving--even if they're only children. It's only too easy to get in trouble by being insensitive with the discipline (like with the little girl I threw off the side of the school building)!</p><p>I also fear being considered annoying (I'm talking too much in the dream), which stems from traumatic childhood experiences like this one: when I was about six, I thought I had a best friend, but at the end of the year, after an entire year of believing this little girl loved me as much as I loved her, she tattled on me because I said something she didn't like to a teacher I wanted to like and impress. I knew that someone who loved me like I loved her would never do that, because I never would have done that to her. So it was a betrayal that should have taught me that a lot of people are only friends out of convenience: you share the same time and place, but not the same feelings of love and loyalty for each other. It also should have taught me that people can be on the fence about a relationship, and it only takes a very little thing to tip the scales one way or another. I've had to relearn these lessons as the years have gone by, even though I've been on the other side myself. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-39051494277980354712023-12-31T10:47:00.000-08:002023-12-31T10:47:12.427-08:00Feeling afraid in my friend's glamorous New York City apartment. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiygRAUjY7_aMRmBSUNoh8-zGWRBDcU5VgGU7nDyyVsZBsUpEBl2Fln7ViToi3MZlMV4johj3yzDtFm8u_drQzCAYVAEPla2daF1c7gB0Qpy8vS-MbVIU174f-dhGjC3Fv1w1IqB0YM_hieBYbloqXyQ8iA0-XFYdmi3R19KRMVu9VYDhhfkpp6WDKXqIc3/s1024/daytime.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiygRAUjY7_aMRmBSUNoh8-zGWRBDcU5VgGU7nDyyVsZBsUpEBl2Fln7ViToi3MZlMV4johj3yzDtFm8u_drQzCAYVAEPla2daF1c7gB0Qpy8vS-MbVIU174f-dhGjC3Fv1w1IqB0YM_hieBYbloqXyQ8iA0-XFYdmi3R19KRMVu9VYDhhfkpp6WDKXqIc3/s320/daytime.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I'm staying by myself in a friend's gorgeous, spacious New York City apartment. I love this place, but I'm alone, and there's a background of fear all the time in my mind as I worry about the apartment being broken into--especially at night. </p><p>Then another friend comes over, and we watch a movie on the couch together. She seems to have forgotten that she's gay. I remember, and I see lots of little markers in the things she says that might let her know that she's gay, but she doesn't recognize them. I don't think I should tell her. I don't think she's ready to know yet. </p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>The friend who doesn't remember that she's gay part is a little bit of a mystery to me other than perhaps recognizing friends that have wished to not be gay and sometimes try to forget that that's a significant aspect to who they are. </p><p>But the part about being terrified in an apartment feels very connected to my real life right now. I go through cycles of intense anxiety. It started after my first really big bout of psychosis. I'm going through another anxiety cycle right now. I just keep reminding myself that I'm dedicating myself to living a life that doesn't include an unnecessary amount of fear. </p><p>I've talked this out with my therapist, and in my opinion, nothing is worth going through level 10 anxiety. Maybe level 5 anxiety is okay in some cases just to keep me alert and energized. But anything above a 5 is something I want to recognize within myself and address with things like mindfulness, digging into the root causes of the fears, exploring the worst case scenario, reminding myself that it's counterproductive to fear suffering and pain (it will come, and you just have to learn to become an expert at managing it), and deliberately releasing tension in my body with awareness, exercise, or meditation. </p><p>It's sometimes very hard though. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-86576504127279581392023-12-28T04:00:00.000-08:002023-12-28T04:00:00.139-08:00The ocean creatures living in my foot. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Xbuk9RqjANczvIFcNDnsy4Td5iRH5B0pt8l9DLoChSJno9E9S2VKYzeEQ4AVsHmQGRLJc-7PtdnGsEFy1T_tPRuK2XNhuoLZlM0ot0_fhNsSeWOjM3g6ZewUykRy92hne2En5XC6LtClSkDzaDgBUAMecmWnJbIKsrFPStZTzWb7i0sANcqLCxxRL31d/s1024/coralfoot.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Xbuk9RqjANczvIFcNDnsy4Td5iRH5B0pt8l9DLoChSJno9E9S2VKYzeEQ4AVsHmQGRLJc-7PtdnGsEFy1T_tPRuK2XNhuoLZlM0ot0_fhNsSeWOjM3g6ZewUykRy92hne2En5XC6LtClSkDzaDgBUAMecmWnJbIKsrFPStZTzWb7i0sANcqLCxxRL31d/s320/coralfoot.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I'm in bed. It's winter. I'm watching TV. </p><p>I don't notice my cat until he has clung to the side of my thigh for dear life. He's wrapped tight and I love him. My mom says she bets I haven't even fed the cats. This offends me. It's like she's saying I'm a bad cat mom. I say it's only 5 a.m. She says she feeds them at 4 a.m. I get out of bed. </p><p>I live in a mansion with red carpeting. I go down the hall and banter with a servant who hands me a bucket of food. I go to the fireplace and mix 3 different kinds of wet cat food together as the cats swirl around me. The food looks odd. It's very gelatinous. I consider why this might be. Is this just a new style of cat food I'm unfamiliar with?</p><p>I have dumped and mixed the food in the cats' bowls when two other servants approach with a large pleather cloth stretched out between them. I stand and allow them to dress me in it. It's a bright red snakeskin dress that hugs my curves. </p><p>My husband sees, and he tries to undress me. My husband is doughy, middle aged and lumpy. I am disgusted by his advances. </p><p>He's hurt, but accepts it. </p><p>I leave and see what looks like a small horn on my foot with a little sea fan on top. It looks like an ocean coral. I take tweezers and pull it off. It leaves a large hole in my foot. I take another coral-looking thing off. There are giant blue microorganisms the size of my fist underneath, moving and squirming around--reaching their tentacles out to explore the world. There are also large, soft, gray chunks in the hole in my foot. My cat starts to sniff the organism, and I'm really scared for her, so I shoo her away and bag the organism to throw it all away someplace safe. The back of my foot looks like an empty leather sack.</p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>Hmmm. Well, I think that when I was in my twenties, and even in my teens (call Chris Hansen and send him back in time), I would feel considerably more powerful and desirable, sexually, than the middle aged men who would constantly approach me (in the dream, I was clothed in the incredible red dress). Unless they really kept themselves unusually fit and healthy for their age (and weren't <i>married</i> or in a relationship, which they often were), it always felt so outrageous for someone of about 40-60 years of age to approach me, sexually, at my young age. But I don't feel dramatically mismatched with single, middle aged people anymore at my age and in my condition! I feel kind of gross, really (like the infected, leather foot in the dream). And my health is only fair. </p><p>This is just a dream digging into the subconscious though. I think that in real life, it's good to have enough self-esteem to ask out someone you're interested in, even if they're intimidating for whatever reason. Plenty of relationships with an age gap work out fine. But I would just challenge certain people to ask <i>why</i> they think they should be with someone dramatically younger or very unevenly matched. Are they trying to make their romantic partners status symbols? Do they believe that having a more youthful partner would boost their self-esteem for a while? That's not a recipe for happiness for either person. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-73652339463445512502023-12-27T02:00:00.000-08:002023-12-27T02:25:44.749-08:00Stuff your Kindle day! (news)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzEYGjkUxRgLD0UZH-ZtDb7C2u7lG3e9Fd-9jdy0ZDZZKWSCFEG2hbKXc9NlmKqQfYDJ9Uelfg8Cl9Xa0sLsu6CHQRPxIF5os6jUusQy9kk-ZJlwIXF0DcKwnVZlfNUizESxJKCFdz8CYB0isbXGw58pnOMY-acrSTfR1NSS0uCFsNg6Kj5pbk9Ttyvr_z/s1024/romance.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzEYGjkUxRgLD0UZH-ZtDb7C2u7lG3e9Fd-9jdy0ZDZZKWSCFEG2hbKXc9NlmKqQfYDJ9Uelfg8Cl9Xa0sLsu6CHQRPxIF5os6jUusQy9kk-ZJlwIXF0DcKwnVZlfNUizESxJKCFdz8CYB0isbXGw58pnOMY-acrSTfR1NSS0uCFsNg6Kj5pbk9Ttyvr_z/s320/romance.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>Well, I hope you're settling down after Christmas like I am! I dreamed that I ate kimchi for the first time and swung from a series of Christmas trees that were like 40 ft tall.</p><p>My own eBook giveaway has just ended, but if you are a fan of the romance genre, you might want to enter "stuff your kindle day free" in Amazon's search bar to find lots of free romance eBooks--today only! (Well, I've heard that some people have their books up for a couple days before and after, but in theory, it's a one-day event.)</p><p>I've only just heard of this event, but apparently, it happens four days per year. </p><p>Here's an interesting (huge) list of some of the books available right now: <a href="https://www.romancebookworms.com/kindle" target="_blank">https://www.romancebookworms.com/kindle </a></p><p>And here's the official Amazon page. It's organized a little bit into categories (although even within the categories, the books usually have a romance element): <a href="https://www.amazon.com/b?ie=UTF8&node=120788079011">https://www.amazon.com/b?ie=UTF8&node=120788079011</a></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-46382662550761524432023-12-22T02:31:00.000-08:002023-12-23T09:41:19.788-08:00FREE humorous eBook from now until December 26th: SATYR PLAYS!<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjceNRpbJp8SRiUUhBut2wpYEgiN8AKS4LxIlWuI54CB11vN5gTXM_8IMFY84Lsdfmr8qD32xOGnVEG3AfT71Vke-d1NP_WuyklrbGXpVZ66jbL8EYDSslEqIx0ekWo4AF2yQTBVaA0eXAgTE4eWihxFgPVs83hOF37jEGdHzErKIInhTYVEhdbf3kFU8AC/s1024/christmas%20book.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjceNRpbJp8SRiUUhBut2wpYEgiN8AKS4LxIlWuI54CB11vN5gTXM_8IMFY84Lsdfmr8qD32xOGnVEG3AfT71Vke-d1NP_WuyklrbGXpVZ66jbL8EYDSslEqIx0ekWo4AF2yQTBVaA0eXAgTE4eWihxFgPVs83hOF37jEGdHzErKIInhTYVEhdbf3kFU8AC/s320/christmas%20book.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></div><br /><p></p><h2 style="text-align: center;">Download yourself a little Christmas treat! SATYR PLAYS: free for the Kindle right now until midnight, 12/26/23: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ2CH4MT">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ2CH4MT</a></h2><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">You do not have to sign up for Kindle Unlimited to download this book to your Kindle account! Ignore the "Read for Free" button and click either the "Buy Now for Free" button in the app on your phone, or click the "Buy now with 1-Click" button on your computer.</div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><br /></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">About the book:</h3><i>Written like a sitcom acted out on the page, this collection of nineteen humorous short stories follows the adventures of Matt and Sandi, whose submarine from the Lost City of Atlantis has crashed. Now the pair must figure out how to make a living in New York City despite having nothing but dry wit and each other.</i><br /><br />The dramatists of Ancient Greece had a tradition. After a long day of heavy, dramatic plays, they would bring out the comedians, dressed as satyrs, to mock and make merry with the material that came before it. These were called the satyr plays. <br /><br />​​​​​​​These are the Satyr Plays of the Lost Atlantis novel series. No knowledge of the original dramatic story is necessary to enjoy this book, which marks a significant departure from the material that inspired it.<div><br /></div><div>Merry Christmas, my friend! I hope you are happy and at peace this holiday season! I know it's a sad time for some, and if so, please remember that this season will pass quickly. But if you love Christmas like I do, remember also: it will pass quickly! </div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-38665573355306632922023-12-12T08:28:00.000-08:002023-12-12T08:28:45.918-08:00SATYR PLAYS--now available as an eBook! (Giveaway from the 22nd to the 26th!)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuEjBLfXsthvAAwHo0JFXmzNeby6ADRc-le2ba8Uli3ftsh6j9D0G3RwnCSurlq0OMQNvfpsf-d1sez_C8rgDv-ehepg7od-9cxqFTeaAgqRFBEbavHu9DwWNPiMHxjH9kGpmRDJR5H83SBvQQ8xpNA3WBfM0NhHDDfFSqVqseNpzsxdyDtvOWrALJNSo/s658/Screen%20Shot%202023-12-08%20at%2012.25.22%20PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="658" data-original-width="426" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuEjBLfXsthvAAwHo0JFXmzNeby6ADRc-le2ba8Uli3ftsh6j9D0G3RwnCSurlq0OMQNvfpsf-d1sez_C8rgDv-ehepg7od-9cxqFTeaAgqRFBEbavHu9DwWNPiMHxjH9kGpmRDJR5H83SBvQQ8xpNA3WBfM0NhHDDfFSqVqseNpzsxdyDtvOWrALJNSo/s320/Screen%20Shot%202023-12-08%20at%2012.25.22%20PM.png" width="207" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">Now available on Amazon at: <span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ2CH4MT">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ2CH4MT</a></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;">I would like to present to you my first comedic book! This is a short story collection establishing a sitcom-like alternate universe to Lost Atlantis. I hope it's at least entertaining, even if the jokes don't always land.</p><p style="text-align: left;">I wasn't too concerned about whether or not anyone would read my Lost Atlantis series. I wrote that mainly for myself. But this book is different. This book is like me saying, "I want you to like me. Please!!!" I really want people to enjoy it!</p><p style="text-align: left;">I'm doing the usual eBook giveaway from 12 a.m. 12/22/23 to 11:59 p.m. 12/26/23 (Pacific Time). A lot of people prefer physical books, and I also need physical copies for in-person stuff, so those will be for sale soon too. I just have to review and approve the proof, which will probably take 1-3 weeks provided that there are no major problems. Alas, I do not have a giveaway planned for physical copies, except to a couple of free little libraries.</p><p>If you decide to read this book and you like it, please tell a friend about it and leave an honest review if you're comfortable doing that. It would really help me out! Even if you can't, thank you for reading my work!</p><p>Merry Christmas!</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-44082913453504294012023-12-07T10:34:00.000-08:002023-12-08T11:41:05.405-08:00My thoughts on the movie, "Dream Scenario," and arguing about Buddhism. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZpm_zG5s1taffAxlqFH-BAsGAp18GgvVx1LTcE4mQLwRblhMnA6XzPDA0cc_zpqVbyD_OODNfQxdamPqlm2qIxO8eXqv-0FS2xDIa-bO2kLTp7hwA7A6pCnccSIUCSpFWXW6ipgoybdSl_rwHZlxkHsn18iGWlq51_rKinMDJ_oT-gG-Lo-CL_6qnoXbk/s1024/niccage%20dancing.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZpm_zG5s1taffAxlqFH-BAsGAp18GgvVx1LTcE4mQLwRblhMnA6XzPDA0cc_zpqVbyD_OODNfQxdamPqlm2qIxO8eXqv-0FS2xDIa-bO2kLTp7hwA7A6pCnccSIUCSpFWXW6ipgoybdSl_rwHZlxkHsn18iGWlq51_rKinMDJ_oT-gG-Lo-CL_6qnoXbk/s320/niccage%20dancing.png" width="320" /></a></div><i><div><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></div></i><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p>I watched <i>Dream Scenario</i>, and I actually dreamed about Paul Matthews (Nicholas Cage) several times that night. He was always in the distance dancing. So it wasn't quite like the movie, but it was similar enough to be kind of funny.</p><p>Anyways. After those little dreams, I had a different dream. </p><p>My parents and YouTuber <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@ethan" target="_blank">Ethan Nestor</a> and I walk through a factory. I pass by some old coworkers.</p><p>"Film is <i>okay</i>..." I say somewhat dismissively to them.</p><p>My coworker's face turns into a frown. I've never known people more passionate about film, so I get it: I've provoked them, perhaps deliberately or impulsively. I'm not sure. I don't understand myself well enough to know.</p><p>I see new workers in the lunch room. It's like watching a Mr. Rogers documentary on the workplace. It looks clean and organized. Everyone's wearing a uniform, and no one looks miserable. </p><p>Then I get into a yelling match with one of the workers about Buddhism and feel horribly judged for getting angry. I know that a major part of Buddhism is soothing anger and being mindful of hatred and anger. I've heard it called an ignorant addiction. It destroys the clarity of your thinking, but the adrenaline and the power rush gets you high and it becomes a habit. But I get in this yelling match anyway, and I know she knows I label myself as a Buddhist, and I know she knows about the philosophy of Buddhism, so it's humiliating. </p><p>Then my parents, Ethan and me drive off to a building that dumps books into car windows like a slot machine. Ethan's infectious laughter rings throughout the car as books pour into his lap. I am proud that he will know that I grew up well-read and surrounded by books, because my parents initiated this trip. So it would be natural for him to assume that they've always done this. I like him and want to be liked by him.</p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>You know, I was never bored when I was watching<i> Dream Scenario</i>, so I think that's a kind of success, but I do have some issues with the film. </p><p>For one thing, I was annoyed to see yet another Hollywood representation of mental illness as a root cause of violence. I would say that you can't be mentally well and commit violence. You have to be both suffering and ignorant of others' suffering to be violent. But you definitely don't have to have a mental illness. Most people with mental illnesses are just minding their own business, staying quiet to avoid further discrimination and trauma. It might be harder to manage diabetes than a lot of mental illnesses, especially if the community decides to be supportive with well-funded programs to get people with mental illnesses therapy, housing, and medication. (Which doesn't always happen, but inserting that stereotype about the violent mentally ill person into yet another story just really bugged me.)</p><p>Another thing that bothered me about the film was... <i>No one</i> has empathy for this man appearing in everyone's dreams? I find that pretty unrealistic. I think that there truly are good people in the world who will at least give thoughts and prayers even if they don't feel as though they can do any material work to help someone who is suffering. If<i> no one</i> has empathy for you, I'd say you're probably hallucinating, dreaming, or somehow distorted in your thinking about your situation. Or you're in this movie.</p><p>Overall, I thought that the film was kind of like an interesting thought experiment about cancel culture and fame, but it was missing some important perspectives.</p><p>I did think the lack of empathy for Paul Matthews' apology video was thought-provoking. Whenever I can select the group of people I spend my time with, I will often forget just how narcissistic the general population is. I get the impression from comments online and from hearing drama YouTubers speak that a lot of people have very, very grand expectations for apologies. They want all of their hurting points to be addressed to their personal satisfaction, when that's usually not reasonable. The person apologizing isn't a mind-reader, and probably isn't thinking clearly even if they do know what's on people's minds. A <i>lot</i> of people won't even admit they're wrong at all, so I'm often surprised when people don't recognize the amount of emotional labor it takes for someone to admit that they've hurt someone. </p><p>And Nicholas Cage still has pretty eyes. </p><p>Anyway, back to the dream.</p><p>I think the fact that I'm getting into arguments with both old and new people in my life is interesting. I guess in real life, I'm concerned about not following <i>everything</i> I hear about how Buddhism is supposed to be. I'd guess that that's because I had to be <i>extremely</i> alert and cautious about what I'd say and do with regard to all things wearing the Christian label growing up. I still tip toe around that subject because I did meet some good people in church who I still try to maintain relationships with, and I do try to maintain relationships with my family of origin. </p><p>There's a pride/humiliation theme going on in the dream, which I think has to do with some internal need to have others view me a certain way. Growing up, I needed to be seen as a good Christian girl, or I would face brutal, relentless punishment. Not being able to be myself might have gotten me caught up in a habit of trying to get other people to see me a certain way, which can be an ego thing as well as just a memory of blind terror for my safety. This dream could be warning me that they might be entwined in my life.</p><p>I'm not even posting about some of the heavier dreams I've been having. But I'm definitely having some very heavy ones the more I pursue my spirituality. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-82998935001421556232023-12-05T09:43:00.000-08:002023-12-05T14:31:51.121-08:00I get involved with Nicholas Cage at a wedding. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1BukrD7rS72x7r2useL9d5U77p_Qx4bwsCkUksEx-KOTIDMNUbDaSpbLhiDqZ30hAvnoltNUyZW2tuiw6N-yBmydTPZi7n9p-_pomRy5IIAzX_WaBhaJ0kxMKrO3IkUn8rQJvbT5_skHYYSdYpz2sSbfHqmvRM7mjrDdX7l-SDK-Iz1HyDlhQGxscJT8/s1024/niccage.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1BukrD7rS72x7r2useL9d5U77p_Qx4bwsCkUksEx-KOTIDMNUbDaSpbLhiDqZ30hAvnoltNUyZW2tuiw6N-yBmydTPZi7n9p-_pomRy5IIAzX_WaBhaJ0kxMKrO3IkUn8rQJvbT5_skHYYSdYpz2sSbfHqmvRM7mjrDdX7l-SDK-Iz1HyDlhQGxscJT8/s320/niccage.png" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></i><p>DREAM</p><p>I'm at a Victorian/Boho styled wedding, but it's also a murder mystery film set. </p><p>The bride is very much so into the new age. She talks about casting spells and horoscopes as she runs around her wooden mansion in the woods--frantic.</p><p>She's preoccupied with getting the guests their appetizers, and organizing the wedding, and the cinematographers, and the actors. I, however, am preoccupied with a guest: Nicholas Cage. To my surprise, Nicholas doesn't seem to mind hanging out with me. After a while, it's pretty clear that we have a little bit of a connection going on. We exchange some kisses--serious, romantic ones. We become each other's "default people" when we walk into a room.</p><p>But then, my crush from when I was sixteen arrives to the wedding party, and woah boy, I am instantly <i>smitten</i> with him. I <i>yearn</i> for him. I <i>ache</i> for him. He's the only thing I can focus on. In the end, I approach him with a romantic proposition and he accepts. Mega star Nicholas Cage was not enough to lure me away from the simple purity of first love. I knew I was probably the thousandth option a big movie star like him had, and although I was surprised that he had some affection for me, I knew it wasn't that intense, burning, all-consuming, insane love from high school, and could never be. </p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION </p><p>I think it's really funny that I had this dream while Nicholas Cage has the movie <i>Dream Scenario</i> out in theaters. I haven't seen it myself, but the premise of the movie is funny. Nicholas Cage plays a man who keeps appearing in everyone's dreams, and the people get mad at him when the dreams turn into nightmares. I keep seeing the ads for it online, so maybe that's why I had this dream. Maybe I'll go see that film this week!</p><p>I've been having dreams about yearnings from my youth lately though. It's painful, but it has that sweet feeling of nostalgia a lot of the time.</p><p>I'm thinking about who I would go for in real life, and... I'm not entirely sure! I think I would go for Nicholas Cage partly because he was there first. Partly because I get this weird sense that we have more similar personalities than me and my crush did. That's less mysterious, but more... comfortable? Also, I was already in a relationship of sorts with him, and I didn't have to pursue him. It was a mutual pursuit. There's less risk there. </p><p>But the purity of my love for my old crush was <i>so</i> intense. It's hard to imagine feeling that way about someone again. That naive openness to giving and receiving love, once folded or crushed, is very hard to get back to the way it was. I can't decide if it's better that way or not.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-1759597604527897402023-11-28T10:15:00.000-08:002023-11-28T10:15:23.922-08:00The man in my house telling me I can't do anything. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8smv4zphetYJMX9VQhslaCr-4PLdgNbbb_2GDN6zVLqLw-k2xw6A5B5d-OEsDjpFpzhsRfLjOTaB-bvUhbNt7F90cEKSddfnEaYBJPFfG7g4j7v9p9VxfNvyz5q669_ltkQhduuMdeumnIXdAP5BDkYAgsbx3C5Tmu5S89E3QUMteZ467buBdFLeiEhba/s1024/goat.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8smv4zphetYJMX9VQhslaCr-4PLdgNbbb_2GDN6zVLqLw-k2xw6A5B5d-OEsDjpFpzhsRfLjOTaB-bvUhbNt7F90cEKSddfnEaYBJPFfG7g4j7v9p9VxfNvyz5q669_ltkQhduuMdeumnIXdAP5BDkYAgsbx3C5Tmu5S89E3QUMteZ467buBdFLeiEhba/s320/goat.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I'm in a house with my parents, and we want to travel from our rural area to another location closer to the city. </p><p>We're with a really, really cynical, unpleasant guy who doubts everything we try to do and vocalizes his doubts about us--a <i>lot</i>. </p><p>I forgot that we need to take our cat, and so I bring her from our old, permanent house into the newer house. The cynical man says bringing the cat along will never work. I tell him it <i>will</i> work, and easily too. I bring the cat's litter box into the house. </p><p>A red bowling ball comes down from a chute in the ceiling, and I give it to the cynical man to hold to keep him occupied. </p><p>Then the house breaks off from its foundation and it walks to the city.</p><p>I go into a studio where they're teaching comedy. The director adds me to a skit and asks me for ideas for humor with live goat kids. The goats come running from across the room. A black one jumps into my arms. He's pretty big and I rest on the floor to accommodate him.</p><p>I come up with a joke, but I don't like it that much, and I leave the troupe, mentally. Then I kick myself as rehearsal goes on, because I have a much better joke, but it's kind of late to add it. The show goes on before an audience, and I wonder if it could've been better, but I'm glad it's been made. </p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>I think most of us have an annoying man who just stands there in our heads saying that what we do will never work. In the dream, I keep him occupied with a bowling ball. In real life, I think it's a lot harder to visualize the process of keeping him quiet. </p><p>I've been reading about mindfulness for the past several weeks, and I really think it helps to take a step back and label thoughts. Then you either let the thoughts pass or choose to accept them. For example, you can notice that there's a lot of tension in your body, then step back and label a thought or a line of thinking as "worrying about the future," "craving junk food," or "angry thought." But you generally don't have to accept every thought and identify with it and let it change your mood and actions. </p><p>Negative thoughts are just as a quirk of the human brain. They're sometimes realistic but oftentimes not. Maybe identifying with negative thoughts helps you out 1 in 10 times, but the other 9 times, they'll probably just make you miserable. </p><p>I think the end of the dream just points out that it's much better for something imperfect to get made than to endlessly try to perfect something. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-59826452014697611572023-11-24T11:52:00.000-08:002023-11-24T19:10:23.401-08:00The purple dragon of decision-making. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0qyMJDG5qVxETbWHKAaTsYdU8A6T1XfhHe1xLrGdgFvKZFDIMtjRZJOeAB_-iTjtRWumrjVi_sP3QFtRYh1QDQZcvA3M22VixlKE2OzZoisF1DPilMA8_feYBVEuuYUMK360XiFl5lPrsMWIcgAqehBeK9c3p_0-72sxkoSIQFpGB4pmZ0G6MDf2c_2vl/s1024/purple%20dragon.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0qyMJDG5qVxETbWHKAaTsYdU8A6T1XfhHe1xLrGdgFvKZFDIMtjRZJOeAB_-iTjtRWumrjVi_sP3QFtRYh1QDQZcvA3M22VixlKE2OzZoisF1DPilMA8_feYBVEuuYUMK360XiFl5lPrsMWIcgAqehBeK9c3p_0-72sxkoSIQFpGB4pmZ0G6MDf2c_2vl/s320/purple%20dragon.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I'm in a darkened bar with blue accent lighting. I work here in some kind of management/ownership position. A small, flying purple dragon who is a regular customer of mine is drunk, and he flies behind the bar. A cat jumps up and eats it. I don't want to lose that regular income the dragon provides, so I try to get it out. </p><p>I <i>can't</i>. I worry that I just haven't tried enough things. I heard from one of Louis C.K.'s interviews that if you put alcohol into a dog's mouth, it will make them throw up. But I really don't want to harm the cat. What if alcohol hurts cats and not dogs? What if I use the wrong type of alcohol? What if it hurts the dragon?</p><p>Fortunately, just by reaching into the cat's mouth, I can eventually pull the dragon out. It's not harmed. I think to myself, <i>If this wasn't a dream, he'd have suffocated in the cat's stomach.</i></p><p>I go to another part of the bar with my parents--an outdoor area. I'm just showing them around when I see an impression start to wriggle upwards from the soil. Snakes pop out of the soft dirt floor. I analyze at them and declare them harmless. I put them in containers. I put one in a container with water. I say it's a Mississippi mud snake. But I doubt myself because something about his face looks like a gila monster, and those are desert animals. I categorize the other snakes as a garter snake, and a corn snake. </p><p>Then I hear a rattle. One is a rattlesnake! I missed it! How could I have done that! Now it has my dad cornered and it's heading towards him. I tell my dad to run and he does, barely missing getting bitten. </p><p>I survived that, but don't know what to do now about the snakes in my restaurant. The bar is <i>packed</i> with customers. </p><p>Then I see on the TV that the wife of famous evangelist, Billy Graham, has killed herself. Some people were trying to break into her seven houses before she died. There's a TV special about the theives' lives. They were doing a lot of social engineering, but were also searching dumped databases to try to get to her assets. </p><p>I'm high in the catwalk of a stage. I look down on some white horses with numbers on their flanks. We're still following the lives of this small team of crooks. The thieves have inside knowledge about how fast the horses need to be in order to win a contest with them. The trainer calls me down and asks me to help. </p><p>He thinks that if we all speed our clicking noises and chewing, these horses will move through their marks faster. I look around, and all the girls handling the horses are chewing. We try it, all six or so of us and have a good laugh, but I agree that the trainer is on to something.</p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>This dream seems to be wrestling with the challenges of managing problems. I felt pretty relieved when the horse trainer came up with a solution to a problem instead of me. It was a different kind of stress at the very least to try to follow someone else's directions versus coming up with my own.</p><p>I often feel what I felt when I was trying to get the little dragon out of the cat. I often think I can't think fast enough because I haven't tried a wide enough variety of things, or that I'm going to harm someone or something, or that I'll ruin things through inaction because I'm too lazy. </p><p>For example, I just had a flat tire, and I had no idea what to do. My initial thought was to tow the car to a tire shop, but then my stepfather told me I should use an air pump to inflate the tire, and if it's a slow leak, I can just drive it to the shop. Then my neighbor told me I should put my spare tire on, and he described how to do it. That didn't work out, because I bought my car used, and someone swiped the spare tire. Then my friend said I need to call roadside assistance. I tried that, but it wasn't on my insurance plan. I gave up and called a tow truck, which did work, but my therapist said I spent a lot of money I didn't need to, because the tire place upsold me four new tires and a warranty plan, when I could have just taken off the wheel and had someone drive me to the tire store. </p><p>I bought the roadside assistance plan and added it to my insurance, so hopefully in the future, I can just get it towed for the $7 a month that the plan costs me, but sometimes, problems like this make my head spin. </p><p>I'm also having challenges with thinking about getting a job that will downgrade my insurance. Will it end up being worth it? If it doesn't work out, it will set me back for who knows how long. This is one of the biggest problems with not having universal healthcare: you're tied to certain systems and it stifles innovation and entrepreneurship. </p><p>I'm also attempting a certificate program right now that involves a lot of problem solving, not the least of which is how to structure my progress within the program. It's not as well-structured or as gameified as a college class. So it's not so much the actual coursework that gets to me as the life-management issues. I guess the emotional impact of problem-solving bookwork is a lot less severe, because you know that no matter what you do, it's not going to restrict your future lifestyle. </p><p>I have other big life decisions I need to make. I don't like having to make these types of decisions. I guess part of my problem is that I keep thinking about what it would have been like had I done things another way when life is just going to unfold the way it unfolds. </p><p>I don't know what I can learn from this. Maybe that living in the future (can I do better?) or the past (I should have done ___) instead of the present can really make you miserable. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-38910838186845655092023-11-17T21:19:00.000-08:002023-11-17T21:19:22.150-08:00Eating pancakes when I'm dead. (dream)<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WD7ggOsJ9rFZe65jEUzcvPay1FPv5fs2FGpiboh78JS2S62wrdrB-c7v4XYVOWwKRLZk5Mh2FgugOihniqQ0uksUyBAg7A2XXWN1If1CXvZFPSq0y6BfZlrnuIGCF5fQs7jnet1rihIvWk7Y1vbnO34bBjgUaQa9HOTKbZ2Mdza47246zpK0t4wboE5Q/s800/Pancakes_(62621545).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WD7ggOsJ9rFZe65jEUzcvPay1FPv5fs2FGpiboh78JS2S62wrdrB-c7v4XYVOWwKRLZk5Mh2FgugOihniqQ0uksUyBAg7A2XXWN1If1CXvZFPSq0y6BfZlrnuIGCF5fQs7jnet1rihIvWk7Y1vbnO34bBjgUaQa9HOTKbZ2Mdza47246zpK0t4wboE5Q/s320/Pancakes_(62621545).jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Ian Cv, CC BY 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>My best friend and I both die in a hotel, but it takes me a while to figure it out. I'm in an elevator. There was an accident in the elevator shaft. But when that settles down, I go to the ground floor, and no one seems to be able to tell that I'm there. I get out, and people still can't tell I'm there. They can't tell that my friend is there either. </p><p>We're approached by another pair of friends: two black men who are strangers to us. They let us know that all four of us are dead. </p><p>We go out into the world, and there are no other dead people like us. It's kind of unnerving. Where could they all be? </p><p>Then someone alive sorta kinda seems to notice us. He sort of seems to be able to "smell" that we're there, but we stay just outside of his reach. He's spooked, and must sense we're following him at a distance, because sets up a Native American ritual of some kind, and we run away, because we know that might pull us into some kind of zone where we can both interact with each other. Who knows what might happen then?</p><p>We eat a breakfast of pancakes and French toast. Then we hop a ride in an empty taxi. I ask my friend if he'd like to go to Australia since we don't <i>have</i> to eat. He gets very uncomfortable and says, "no." I'm under the impression that it would be uncomfortable for him to go. I'm surprised, since I think we probably have a <i>lot</i> of time to kill. </p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>The fact that we couldn't see any other dead people kind of reminds me of a pet theory I like to consider about aliens: they're there, they're just using some kind of technology to isolate us and hide everything from us.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-27357214179560724962023-11-13T12:02:00.000-08:002023-11-13T12:02:37.396-08:00The Icelandic civil war. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpr8LRZyfEMvhwtWmSTKXZEYGiZMpHi0-B63rxHd5xzwvrjIBy3lMvMb8nHUQqQWadKd0RAlQ35xicSTJ1T2fZCCmbPuoPd7amZeR6jDEEgxCjK2Z40bOnfhx2wpkUMGz0Rq8Uj6FVvqWzzsFzUT546flYASDb2x_RY7lsdLJl7F1p-F8s_8rkB7TV39k/s578/Screen%20Shot%202023-11-13%20at%201.00.56%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="578" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpr8LRZyfEMvhwtWmSTKXZEYGiZMpHi0-B63rxHd5xzwvrjIBy3lMvMb8nHUQqQWadKd0RAlQ35xicSTJ1T2fZCCmbPuoPd7amZeR6jDEEgxCjK2Z40bOnfhx2wpkUMGz0Rq8Uj6FVvqWzzsFzUT546flYASDb2x_RY7lsdLJl7F1p-F8s_8rkB7TV39k/s320/Screen%20Shot%202023-11-13%20at%201.00.56%20PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image from <a href="https://www.instagram.com/omnomchocolate/" target="_blank">Omnom's Instagram</a></i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>My father and his friend who lives with us go to Iceland to try to assist the King of Iceland with a civil war. </p><p>Back home, I keep going on long bus rides with a friend, but I keep forgetting my money.</p><p>Her brother is helping me keep an eye on my father. He thinks he saw a secret door in the king's room.</p><p>My father and his friend come back. They say they the king took their gold and didn't explain what he was going to spend it on. They suspect that he will buy ice cream and chocolate with it and continue work on a statue made of that material. I mention the secret door, and they're upset. The king is not taking the war seriously. He's too crude with his use of his trident. He seems to forget that these people are his people, and he doesn't listen, killing and injuring them thoughtlessly. </p><p>I imagine taking the trident and go through what I would do if I had it. </p><p>At least now that they're back, my father's friend can change out of his pants, which are much, much too tight for him. He should have complained, but he is frugal and long suffering.</p><p><br /></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>Well, the tight pants thing is clear: I saw a show that night in which someone was late to work because they got stuck in their tight leather pants. </p><p>And I think the money on the bus thing is related to how I keep leaving the house worried that I forgot my wallet. </p><p>The King of Iceland making a statue out of chocolate and ice cream is probably related to how I follow Omnom Chocolate on social media. Omnom is an Icelandic chocolate company that I believe is branching out to making ice cream as well. Delicious, but very, very expensive here. I'm talking $10 for a regular-sized bar of chocolate.</p><p>I guess the whole thing about the king not paying attention to the complaints of his subjects, and hiding his money in a secret door is how I feel about all the complaining I see on YouTube about the American economy, while no real action is being taken to make things better. Or maybe I should just say that there are no resulting improvements that I can feel as someone on the lower rungs of society. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-85362473045803405382023-11-09T22:44:00.003-08:002023-11-10T14:43:04.480-08:00A lot of personal symbolism to unravel. (dream) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoeztUypuZ70jCdFDo14c1_LIZuxsMuZqWQz6emnd-K695RxnA8E1hQnnyr6paPZjxzaHxHi6eiZ8ReMzxzwcV0ta1r17seHDHNxw6661SqHXcgYW0uS2PkPcBqdvDFdgX4_STb0BLJ6waOgeHwi3uvRP__ufSGryBwdQUWppbNFnZ6m67k4FtIWistuey/s1024/astrologer.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoeztUypuZ70jCdFDo14c1_LIZuxsMuZqWQz6emnd-K695RxnA8E1hQnnyr6paPZjxzaHxHi6eiZ8ReMzxzwcV0ta1r17seHDHNxw6661SqHXcgYW0uS2PkPcBqdvDFdgX4_STb0BLJ6waOgeHwi3uvRP__ufSGryBwdQUWppbNFnZ6m67k4FtIWistuey/s320/astrologer.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I am talking to someone who grew up knowing my dad. I want to know if he was horrible towards them at some point and if what they experienced, even at a very small dose, was like what I experienced. I explain that I was trapped with him, because I needed intellectual companionship that wasn't available elsewhere. </p><p>Then I want to test out buying a car. </p><p>The people selling me a car are going to steal the car I want to trade in, and I know it. I want to rehearse what would happen if I brought a gun with me. </p><p>I set up the purchase. I see a video about a lady getting charged with hysteria, even though she was right about having her car stolen. The lady taking my trade-in is an internet-famous astrologer, and wants to bring her 12 year old daughter. I take this as a sign of unprofessionalism. Perhaps even... criminality. </p><p>I brought a gun, and point it at them, stopping traffic. The FBI and the cops arrive. They disarm me with a gentle discussion. I explain that they were in the middle of stealing from me. </p><p>As I look around at all the trouble, I think to myself, <i>This is supposed to be a thought experiment. It's not supposed to actually happen. </i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p>INTERPRETATION</p><p>I don't get to talk about my dad often. The opportunity doesn't arise that often, and when it does, I can only recall a jumble of memories which were formed decades ago. All of the memories, even the positive ones, occurred alongside a fear and anger and an intense pain. So the memories tend to come through to me as very unclear. That's the main reason why I decided that I would make Lost Atlantis such a focal point of my life. I needed to get something down on paper about what he put me through that I didn't have words for before. </p><p>I didn't unload everything there is to unload when I wrote Lost Atlantis, but I unloaded a <i>lot</i>. I feel much lighter in that area of my brain after having completed that journey. Now as an artist, I feel as though I can move on from fixating on that to other topics. Pivoting more into comedy as a writer just feels right. I feel a lot more free.</p><p>But many, many, many times, I have thought about what it would be like to ask other family members if he was horrible to them like he was to me. </p><p>I wrote the first Lost Atlantis book--the most shocking one, just a couple years before my own life arguably had some real shocking moments of its own. And sometimes, I'd think to myself that all the shameful, challenging things that my character went through were only supposed to be a thought experiment about what it would be like to suffer very badly in the aftermath of an abusive childhood. I wasn't supposed to live such a tumultuous, harsh emotional life as an adult myself. But I suffered. Very deeply at times.</p><p>I haven't suffered nearly as much for these past several years. And the suffering I have felt generally hasn't been felt as sharply. Sometimes, looking back on my life feels like looking at a stranger. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-28874797832497572712023-11-05T11:56:00.002-08:002023-11-05T11:57:26.459-08:00I become Catwoman when others refuse to assert their independence. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8HoGiIUnnjzKkeLqma7YYtpv5hGigbD6PyySIEGAoJ51wlv677wRb4ZLiafxutSzB5zmz62KMMiMvpcOPneNduzamfp9x8dcr1bYX27r9JEoUcQ34eL5Wbtm4kIjkIzh02e9vUBAZBXHB6PS3fjxL2HOLCMBDFz8Axl3jDv0XeJL21iv1Riv1d5-KRJz/s1024/catwoman.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8HoGiIUnnjzKkeLqma7YYtpv5hGigbD6PyySIEGAoJ51wlv677wRb4ZLiafxutSzB5zmz62KMMiMvpcOPneNduzamfp9x8dcr1bYX27r9JEoUcQ34eL5Wbtm4kIjkIzh02e9vUBAZBXHB6PS3fjxL2HOLCMBDFz8Axl3jDv0XeJL21iv1Riv1d5-KRJz/s320/catwoman.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></p><p><br /></p><p>DREAM</p><p>I am at a retreat, and my friend says that a lot of people don't want the daily task of caring for a pet, but he loves to nurture them. I pray a Buddhist-style blessing over him, saying things like "May you be happy, may you be free from physical and mental suffering, may you live with ease," but also saying, "May you never be conned." </p><p>The retreat gets into gear. It combines the high emotionality and theatricality of Pentecostalism with theatre. A class of us analyze film and talk show business. </p><p>I ask an actor what's wrong when he freezes. He doesn't go into detail when I prod him. I tell the head of the program that I hate what he's doing, because it tells me he dislikes something he senses other people will like, so he's afraid to stand alone. </p><p>Then I imagine myself being perceived with this new identity of independence, like Catwoman. I try to imitate and nail her voice. Then a spaceship boards ours and tries to take our captain hostage. The captain refuses to go quietly, so the woman interrogating her transforms into an alien with huge claws. It looks like she is clawing out the captain's insides, but without doing physical damage. So it's all for show. </p><p>The alien is called away. Then they board our ship and take us all hostage. </p><p>In our cages, we pass notes to each other that now's the time to mutiny. Alternative notes are passed telling us not to do it, but we do, and the walls come shaking down. We win the hand to hand combat, then throw a bomb which destroys the alien ship in their dimension. But they're cloaking their damage, so we can't tell how much we've hurt them and how weak they've become. </p><p>Their ship looks like a house in space now. We go through our own ship/house knocking on doors to assure the aliens aren't leaking into our dimension. </p><p>Then I'm in a bunk bed, and I consider kicking the bedding out of the top to be the finest act of preserving a democracy.</p><div><br /></div><div>INTERPRETATION</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow, I think this is a pretty accurate description of the dream, because I recorded it right after waking up in the middle of the night, but it's all <i>over</i> the place. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think there are a lot of small, daily observations being made, like how nurturing people are often exploited, and how scared people can be about disagreeing with popular opinions, and how some people get prideful when they're hurt and try to hide their vulnerability.</div><div><br /></div><div>I couldn't tell you anything about kicking the bedding off the top of a bunk bed. I did that a couple times as a little kid, and I guess it felt good. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3847619587597588852.post-22506492660626680852023-11-03T18:20:00.000-07:002023-11-03T18:20:05.609-07:00Learning from Tina Fey's "Superman" series. (dream)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJhkzP5D5r41zB8UizZUJQq4spqqo7Fb26ZjZ48JxY3RS0MB27GfNXyZd5Ty-VxCfINZH5sEkjyTZf_VZ8NlUm4_oBtT3qPh-cvCQ2t7bH3A0zPgJJTMpCo4yahLffa4rCWbo1Dg8nseAWZyvBkoYF9Dph2NtgyFhWz5FS7Hx4YwXispaSOh2oyaMlfCOX/s1024/alien%20cat.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJhkzP5D5r41zB8UizZUJQq4spqqo7Fb26ZjZ48JxY3RS0MB27GfNXyZd5Ty-VxCfINZH5sEkjyTZf_VZ8NlUm4_oBtT3qPh-cvCQ2t7bH3A0zPgJJTMpCo4yahLffa4rCWbo1Dg8nseAWZyvBkoYF9Dph2NtgyFhWz5FS7Hx4YwXispaSOh2oyaMlfCOX/s320/alien%20cat.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Image by Midjourney</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>DREAM</div><div><br /></div> I'm studying film at a community college, and the course is based off of videos of Tina Fey's TV show about Superman. I watch Superman fly around inside a giant volcano. <div><br /></div><div>I develop my own TV storyline in which I am a mutant with the traits of a cat. My tagline is "What makes you different makes you bleed."<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>INTERPRETATION</div><div><br /></div><div>Hmmm, well, I'm not too sure about that edgy tagline, but the Tina Fey part makes sense to me. I think of her as a comedy Superwoman. There's something linguistically-satisfying about a lot of her work. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've been trying to study her style by watching <i>30 Rock</i>. </div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://najatau.blogspot.com</div>Naja Tauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726788609375265117noreply@blogger.com0