Don't Tell My Heart...My Achy Breaky Heart...

I had another one of those interestingly insightful dreams last night.  I was in a room with my family, and there was an enormous black snake in the middle.  It was sort of a pet, and we all loved it like part of the family.  My cat, Checkers, came into the room, and even though I knew Checkers and the snake were used to each other, I put her in another room so the snake wouldn't eat her.

Checkers probably represents my soul (she's my soul mate after all) but I can't figure out the snake.  I'm a big fan of snakes, I think they're cool.  So, I don't think it represents some sort of evil in my life, trying to devour my soul.  That would probably be a cool story though.  I'm more of a fan of snakes being messengers and symbols of wisdom and change.  Still, I'm not sure how to interpret the fact that I love this change, but am afraid it's going to eat my soul.  This just sounds more angsty than I tend to give myself credit for.  Haha.  But, it's a lot of fun to think about!  Maybe I'll get a job as a dream interpreter someday!  Tell me your dreams, I'll sort them out for you.

I spent my morning taking a nice long trip down memory lane.  I'm not really sure how it happened, but I stumbled upon an iTunes collection of 90s country music!  Best. Thing. Ever!  We're talking: Achy Breaky Heart, Boot Scootin Boogie, Strawberry Wine, The Grundy County Auction Incident, Cowboy Take Me Away!  Gah!  :-D  

I know I know I know.  You're all too good for country music.  It's dumb, it's nonsense, it's below you.  Fine.  I love it and I'm not ashamed.  Even Achy Breaky.  Love that one too.  I grew up with this stuff.  My family knows a lot of the people who wrote and sang these songs.  I haven't heard most of these songs in years and years and years.  Memories and joy just came bubbling up as I listened to them.  Ray Charles always said the reason he loved country music so much was because of the stories the songs tell.  Some of these stories were mine!  Hearing my past sung to me just made me so happy, I danced and danced around in my room.  

She used to tie her hair up in ribbons and bows,

Sign her letters with X's and O's,

She's got a picture of her mama in heels and pearls.

She's gonna make it in her daddy's world.

She's an American girl.

She's an American girl.

--X's and O's (An American Girl) by Trisha Yearwood (who lives 5 min from my parents.)

I was thinking today about an old Cherokee story.  A young man goes to his grandfather for advice. "Grandfather," he says, "sometimes it seems to me there are two wolves inside of me, fighting to take over my heart.  One is hatred, the other is love.  One is anger, the other is forgiveness.  Please, tell me grandfather, which of these wolves will win?"  The grandfather in the story simply smiles and answers "The one you feed."

Then I put on a Zencast lecture, and the opening lines told this story.  Funny how that happens.  It's an important story, and the lecture put a nice spin on it.  The four ways of Correct Effort are: 1) The effort to prevent the arising of unhelpful states of mind before they arise, 2) The effort to abandon unhelpful states of mind after they have arisen, 3) The effort to cultivate helpful states of mind that have not yet arisen and 4) The effort to maintain those helpful states of mind which have arisen.

I like that.  It's not good or bad.  It's helpful or unhelpful.  :-)  Very...useful. :-P

I pulled a muscle in Wushu last night.  It didn't bother me much today, until I got to Wushu.  Then it really really hurt, so I had to take it easy.  Which  is no fun.  :-(  But there were some really amazing advanced students I've never seen before there tonight, so I got to watch them while I was taking it easy.  :-D

You can tell your ma, I moved to Arkansas

You can tell your dog to bite my leg

Or tell your brother Cliff, his fist can tell my lips

He never really liked me anyway.

But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart

I just don't think it'd understand

And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart

It might blow up and kill this man.

--Achy Breaky Heart, by Billy Ray Cyrus (hee hee hee)