Musette’s Musings – Diurnal Style!

Well!  It’s a rambling kind of day, with my brain feeling a bit untethered and skritchy, so let’s ramble together, shall we?  There will be a quiz, later. 😉

Diurnal!  With the increasing light I’m waking up even more disoriented than when the darkness of Winter hits.  It takes a bit before my internal clock resets and I can process what time it actually is.  Last Tuesday I woke up in a panic, thinking I’d slept through a 7:30a conference call (construction starts early!!) only to find out it was..5:49!?  Wow.  Light at 5:49.  Who’dathunkit.  It’ll be like this, the confusion, until mid April – come May I’ll be up and out in the garden by 6a.  For now, though, it’s a struggle.   You’d think it would be the reverse but I think we’re still atavistically wired to simply sleep in the cold/dark.  At least I am.  It’s no problem  for me to pass completely the hell out, come 7p, in February.  How does it work for you?

Nocturnal.  Even weirder.  This is the time when, for me, the veil is very thin.  It’s the only time of year, this pre-vernal pausing, where I feel as if I have a foot between worlds (normally I’m a pretty corporeal being).  And never more so than when night seems to just clumsily plonk itself into the waning day, willy-nilly, like an elderly dog who’s lost his balance.  I do fine once it gets solidly dark – nobody is confused at 9p.  But… 6p?  A bit unsettling.

It’s all resolved by 9p, though.  Fully dark, I’m greeted by a stunning night sky.  There’s a cluster that appears only this time of year that looks almost exactly like an arrow and FINALLY! there are user-friendly apps that will help me identify it. (update:  it looks to …maybe.. be part of Orion.  I should’ve paid more attention in astronomy class.  Heck, I should’ve actually taken astronomy). I frequently moan about living at the back of beyond… but the night sky in near-complete darkness is a reward of considerable measure.  Longtime Posse might remember my musing about the parking lot at Ventana, in Big Sur…

Oh, my stars.

Well.  Behind my little shack here in Hooterville, in the pitch black, gives that parking lot a major run for its money.  Oh, my stars..

Krav Maga.  Once we get back to safe levels for interaction, sign me (back) up!  I do not fetishize conflict, nor am I attracted to the overt ‘high and tight’ warrior ethos but I do love learning the skills of close combat. Alpha, with control/trust issues, my chemical makeup keeps me thrumming at Defcon 3, with terrifying forays into Defcon2.  Daily.    Good times.  Since I am rational (and not stupid) I try to do everything I can to mitigate this.

Dogs.  Awhile back I started taking a very close look at my dog breed preferences and what I find most attractive about them.  I love all dogs but have the closest connection to larger Working/Guardian breeds.  One of the reasons I love them is their behavior dovetails with mine, as regards discipline, understanding chain of command & communication (hang in there, we’re getting to Krav Maga in a minute, I promise)… but what really resonates is their complete and utter self-possession, that lack of posturing.  A well-trained Guardian knows who they are, what their job is, and they have nothing to prove to anyone… until it’s necessary to prove it.  And then they do.

I love that.

I strive to be more like them but the undercurrent of organic rage (born of fear – being a woman (and a POC woman at that) in this world means I am never at the top of the predator chain and being aware of that 24/7 (again, the chemical makeup), keeps me and my cortisol levels at an uncomfortable pitch and makes me feel more like one of those little yappy dogs, all aquiver.

Back to (toldja we’d get there)- Krav Maga skills put it all in perspective and helps lower the cortisol, the organic rage, the Me… and makes a good argument for playing the hand you’re dealt.  Puts me on a closer wavelength with my Guardian dogs.   And it really does ramp my bp way the hell down.  The more I develop those skills, the less I focus on needing to focus on them (does that make any sense?). Funny that something born of such bloodthirst actually makes me less bloodthirsty.  I have several friends (all female, alas) who bemoan my physical and psychological focus on close combat, strength/flexibility training, the development of the strategic bent of my nature as decidedly unfeminine… I used to argue against that but now I wonder… perhaps I am not considered feminine in the traditional sense.. but I can tell you, were I to attempt to bury the ‘unfeminine’ aspects of my personality I would soon be in the back of a SWAT van, which is a decidedly unfeminine place to be.  Then again I wonder: why on earth is femininity so often associated with helplessness?   And in the fight or flight scenario flight is not always an immediate option anyway.  Nor am I wired for flight.  Though I am not a fool, nor am I ever looking for a fight, I’m specifically wired for fight.  Unless the fight is with a velociraptor.  Or an AR-15.  Then, yeah.  My dogs and I are gonna leg it.

Anyway, that’s a roundabout way of saying that it’s been awhile but I’m eager to re-enter Krav Maga and get these cortisol levels even lower.  Another question for you:  do you consider close combat training to be unfeminine?  What an odd question to ask on a perfume blog, but y’all are used to it by now.   These are useful skills and Floyd knows I love me some Useful Skills. I can break a man’s arm in two places without breaking a nail.  And I can do it awash in the girliest perfume imaginable.  That counts for something, doesn’t it? /s

Okay – talk to me.  I’m eager to learn what’s on your mind and if you have an opinion on anything I blathered about today.  Dissenting opinions are cheerfully welcomed. TGirl just got a girly pawnicure, so she can hit the randoDOTorg button and choose a winner for some goodies.