Ashamedness

I awoke feeling ashamed, again.
Are ashamed and shame the same thing?
Ashamed has a different connotation to me than shame.

Shame has a feeling of a core belief, a loath defectiveness of the self resulting in feelings of worthlessness.
Ashamed has a feeling of an occasional visitor, and perhaps even appropriately so, some thing a being feels after committing a wrong, or a perceived wrong.

I should be thankful that I can feel ashamed.
Maybe the world needs more of that.

But it doesn't stop there, at the feeling.
The afflicted seeks to find relief from the ashamedness.
What brings relief?
I don't know if I know.
One reaction is to toss it and not even consider it, or to cut it off, or to drown it.
I guess some would drown it with alcohol.
Perhaps that is one reason for abuse of the substance.

I think I am of the opinion that all substance abuse is self-medication gone awry.

***
Looked up the difference later, after penning the above. From Difference Between Shame and Ashamed:

In summary, shame and ashamed are two very different words because of the following reasons:

• 1. Shame is generally used as a noun whereas ashamed is typically used as an adjective.
• 2. Shame is the actual feeling (an affect or emotion) which is considered to be a painful one while ashamed is feeling shame itself.

Room enough for dreams

When my muse seems absent,
where does it hide?
I know it always follows me,
hanging around without stepping into the light.
I wish it would take the lead, more often.

If I could climb into my shadow,
what would I see?
Is that where my vivid sleep-dreams originate?
Somewhere in my two-dimensional shadow?
If so, my shadow has more than two dimensions.

As a child, I thought my sleep-dreams took place in my torso.
There simply wasn't enough physical space in my head
for all the people and animals and beings from another realm,
for all the running and climbing and sailing and flying
and floating in midair, which is different than flying.

The only part of my body
with room enough for all those happenings
was in my torso.
Thus my torso is where I thought
my sleep-dreams happen.

As an adult, I still feel that way,
that my sleep-dreams happen in my torso,
even though science says that our sleep-dreams
happen in the brain in our heads.
But the heart is in the torso.

Maybe science is wrong...

I'll be glad when winter is over...

I'll be glad when winter is over.
But that could be the end of March.
Ugh.
Until then, I'll trudge along...

After all these years,
I'm still amazed at the relief cycling brings
to my brain and body and soul.
But I don't get as much soul-relief when cycling indoors
compared to cycling through woods and meadows and mountains.

Soul-relief comes when my soul is filled, satisfied.
Where do I experience that?
When is my soul lifted beyond the material?

When I solo-travel into nature,
cycling greenways and rail-trails
and driving the winding roads of the Blue Ridge Mountains
as I listen to music, which also
feeds my soul.

I am transported into the multidimensional,
a space in time where I feel connected and whole,
where Father Time seems to slow down and whisper,
"This is what you were made to do..."

Life pulsates all around-within.
The presence and witness of the trees
and ancient rocks and cliffs and the rolling river.
The presence and witness of gnomes and tree fairies,
whether or not they really exist.
The presence and witness of wildlife,
who oftentimes make themselves known.
Sometimes our eyes meet and time stands still.
Sometimes the life moves alongside or above or below me.

Upon answering my two questions,
which for me are really one,
I felt a tiny inkling of guilt.
Shouldn't my answer be when I am with friends or family or loved ones,
the people dearest to my heart?
Or when I witness another's freedom from a long-term bondage,
another's wellness and wholeness?

But if I were to choose my two shouldn't-answers,
I would be lying.

I'll be glad when winter is over.
Until then, I'll pedal mostly indoors
allowing memories to roll me along
into the multidimensional...