Scenes from an Unsettled Mind

Stuck in the Twilight Zone

This article was written on February 15, 2010, two months after I left my heart home in Southern California for North Georgia. The return was a mistake. I knew it as soon as I parked in the driveway and he met me in a bathrobe. But like always, I was determined to make the best of things. By the time I wrote this, I knew my efforts had failed. But I couldn’t leave. Not yet. Read on…

I dream in vivid colors and bold action, multiple vignettes that fade on waking. Left behind are bits and snatches, impressions of the endless parade through my mind.

Photo by Kerin Gedge on Unsplash

This morning, what remained was a sense of frustration. Of pushing and pulling, cajoling, trying, vying. Doing what was in front of me to do, only to find I’d made the wrong choice. Wrong place, wrong time. Wrong decision, wrong action. Wrong world, wrong life.

Rising did nothing to quiet the frustration, bringing it forward into my morning.

The weather outside matches my mood, dark gray clouds raining drops all around. Scooping green tea leaves into a strainer, I immerse them in the mug I bought last year in Solana Beach where I’d run away to escape from my perplexing life.

So much has changed since then. I live in a different home on the opposite coast, have a different partner, different car. Yet, nothing essential has changed.

My life has been a marathon; running to, running from, running in place.

There are times when I feel I’m living out an episode of The Twilight Zone. When, in the quiet, still places of my mind, I have a sense of the world and it’s a lonely, frightful place, not at all what I’ve been trained (or want) to believe.

North Georgia Sky by O.J. Barré

I look out the window, and the dark clouds and rain have been scuttled by a brisk, cold wind from the south. It’s now sunny with blue skies but still unsettled—a perfect match for my insides.

What lies before me is an office to create, a partner to consult, paint colors to decide, a sign maker to rouse, paperwork to fill out, licenses to obtain, insurance to buy, and patients to find. Yet, here I sit, in the Twilight Zone, feeling like a hamster on a wheel and that none of that matters.

In times like these, my mind strays uninvited to thoughts of Armageddon and warnings of 2012. To visions I’ve had of being a mighty warrior, wielding the sword of truth and might. Of being not the peacemaker that I’ve been most of my life but on the frontline of chaos and terror.

Why so melancholy?

It’s the dreams. And the visions. They haunt me, making it increasingly more difficult to put one foot in front of the other. How must Columbus have felt? Or Lincoln, standing on the precipice of a world gone mad?

My internet is down. Must be the wind. Next door, a dog bays, reminding me of the beagle we’d found and taken in. Yesterday, on the way to Valentine’s brunch, we saw a sign declaring ‘Lost Beagle’ and called. Her owners came in the afternoon, and while Bugsy, my cat, is happy, there is a small hole in my heart.

Bugsy sleeping on the table in Dawsonville, GA

Speaking of Bugsy, he just fell off the table. He was lying here, soaking up the warmth of the sun, then stretched lazily, a little too far, and fell off. I scrambled out of my chair and grabbed him up, holding him gently in a loving embrace. He purred, my eyes watered, and I remembered, once again: this is all that matters.

LOVE.

Whether life goes on for days, weeks, or years, for minutes or eons, love is the glue that binds us to it. Love is the spark that powers our hearts and holds us together, allowing us to live one more day and dream one more night.

Have you had similar visions? Dreams? Knowings? Do you wake in the morning unsettled? Do you cling to love as I do?

Let us know in the comments. Realizations love company.

From my heart to yours, Olivia/O. J.

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If you enjoy upbeat urban fantasies with a psychological and romantic edge, check out my completed Awen Trilogy. It’s different. Like me. Think of a secret society of magical druids protecting Earth from a race of evil reptilians circa 2042. Then imagine a down-on-her-luck disaster specialist compelled to lead said druids.

Mix in a sexy druid priest, his teenaged nephew, and a plethora of quirky humans and animal and dragon elders in a grand romp that takes you from Druid Hills, GA, to the Bahamas, Normandy, Wales, Glastonbury, and even the poles. Come along for the ride.

You know you wanna.

Read samples and purchase at Amazon: The Awen Trilogy

Photo courtesy of Mockup Shots