Dear Pneuma,

I feel sad and lonely today. I suppose I have earned that right.

-Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

There is a folk song that says, "I love my Love, because I know my Love loves me." I think the song lies. I love my Love, because I first decided to love me. Allowing that I can be loveable, my capacity to love is not bound by another's response to me. In fact, love undid me, because I realized that I love my Love, whether or not my Love loves me.

Blues songs know this. They know that love is perilous. They know that the Beloved is an imperfect and often unkind person, but that this unloving nature doesn't change my love for the Beloved. Yet, still, I think Blues songs lie, because true love comes from an ability to care and be kind first to oneself. Loving myself, I cannot submit to relationship with a Beloved that does not love me.

I love my Love because my Love is wonderful. My Love loves me because I am wonderful. We are fortunate, because we decided to love one another. I think we love one another because we have walked away from other Loves before.

Who's writing songs about this kind of bittersweet reality?

"Lemon Meringue" by Poe
"Head Over Feet" by Alanis Morissette
"Don't Think of Me" by Dido

Keep Well,
Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,
Suddenly, I do not believe in Superman. I do not believe in Wonder Woman, Mighty Mouse or even Batman. Suddenly, I've realized that true courage often means losing, failing, witnessing and being useless to change things for the better. I don't remember being taught about this in school. I don't remember seeing it exemplified on TV, and I sure do not remember seeing this kind of courage displayed by the superheroes of my youth.

This courage requires that I see injustice. This courage requires that I acknowledge my participation in injustice. This courage requires that I accept that sometimes, justice does not prevail. Yet, this courage also requires that I do not give up on justice. It also requires that I mourn at examples of injustice, and that I continue to speak against injustice, even when I cannot take action to avert it.

I have meant, in my life, to be a person of courage. I am finding that courage is more difficult when one cannot simply "come to save the day." We humans are complicated and interrelated. Every moment of our being impacts every other moment of being. Sometimes, that impact is a loss or a death; a destruction of some sort. I find I am cowardly in committment for fear of being forsworn, incapable or simply hypocritical.

I am praying, hoping, engaging in the idea of courage that includes this culpability. Wish me luck.

-Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

Today I am "overexcited." This is the term my mother used when my speech sped up, my body vibrated with pent action, and my eyes would pop out of my head from the effort of holding something in.

That something is a combination of intuitive connections, happiness, physical vigor, conversation and the weather that adds up to so much, it cannot be contained within my entirely inadequately sized body. I often have a sense that "I" take up more space than my body does. This "overexcitement" is, in my experience, the completely natural consequence of that reality. Unfortunately, it seems to translate as "crazy" to other people.

So I walk my dog and gesticulate wildly to the trees and grass, and sky, while releasing all of the wonderful energies that are thrumming through my system. I let nature, and whatever human witnesses are by, know the truly novel ideas that are rushing through my mind. I let them hear about all the wonderful connections that light up when I can actually contemplate myself subjectively and objectively at the same time. Sometimes, I simply "whoop and holler," because sound is what best expresses my state of being.

When I am here, I wonder what it is in my demeanor that is so frightening to other people. It never translates to anything other than supersonic speech and thought. It never expresses itself as a loss of physical control or even an inability to focus and accomplish a goal. Nevertheless, when I am "overexcited" people that know and love me, draw back and suggest that I "calm down." Because it does concern those around me, I find myself diffusing it through socially acceptable activities, such as dance, exercise and theatre; or else releasing it in the privacy of my shower or the anonymous privacy of the nearest "green space."

I wonder whether I am being altogether faithful to this gift that I have been given. Maybe these moments where I am so full of energy, purpose and comprehension, need to be harnessed and shared with others. Maybe these moments carry clues for the true potential of myself. Then again, maybe they are simply wonderful dreams.

In Excitement,
Cobalt Dreams