When something happens we can’t understand or explain, what do we do? Often, we try to make meaning of what just happened.
Sometimes, we can’t.
If something upsetting happens, we often look to ascribe blame — against ourselves and others.
I actually don’t know why I’m writing these words right now. They do relate to a discussion I witnessed in a therapy group yesterday, but I can’t make meaning of how this topic fits with some photos I want to show you.
I think I should have stuck with my original title for this post: “Some photos I took on Wednesday.” That would have worked, really easily.
Why did I change the title, the way I did? I can’t make meaning of that, right now.
Now what should I do? And who is to blame for this less-than-optimal blogging situation? Me, you, or somebody else?
Who cares? Let’s just look at the photos.
Here’s a little item I got many years ago, which I keep in my office:
How do we make meaning of THAT? What the heck is it? Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?
I’ll tell you this: it’s made out of wood.
I’ll give you a hint. It’s a kind of transformer.
I mean, it’s like a transformer because it (1) has moving parts and (2) turns into something else. However, I may have misled you with that last image, or raised your expectations too high. My thing is not quite that intricate, flashy, or up-to-date. I hope you still like it, though.
Here it is:
Here’s the meaning I ascribe to that: it looks, to me, like a wondrous, special and unusual place to stay.
Sometimes I do stay in unusual places. Like, last night I had a sleep-over at a hospital.
Now I’m misleading you, again. That is NOT where my sleep study was. That’s actually a hospital for children.
I’m not a child, so I don’t belong there. How do I feel about that?
If you have trouble making meaning of that, I’ll be more direct. I’m very glad I’m no longer a child.
One of the many advantages of being an adult? You get more freedom of expression.
For example, you can take whatever pictures you like and present them as you choose:
I’m actually not sure what I’m trying to convey in this post. Which might make it difficult for you to make meaning of it all.
I will tell you some feelings I had while I was writing this post: I prefer being home to being in hospitals. I don’t like medical machines attached to me, at night. And, based on this part of my sleep-study, I will, most likely, getting a CPAP machine, to bring into my home:
(I found that image here.)
Eeek! I just freaked myself out, just as I did when I googled “sleep study” in March.
Now I want to show you something I saw at home before I left before my sleep study, asleep without a machine:
Right before I snapped this photo, my boyfriend Michael said this about Oscar:
I can’t make head or tails of that cat.
Which, of course, is another way to make meaning.
Before I end this post, I want to tell you this: I wrote most of this last night, before I left for the hospital.
I’m writing this ending at yet another hospital, where I work.
The sleep study went better than I expected. I slept fine with the CPAP machine. And I think it’s actually going to help me feel better (despite my old, childhood-acquired negative feelings about medical machines).
I will probably write more about this, perhaps in tomorrow’s post. For now, here are some images from this morning (and feel free to make meaning of them, or not):
Thanks to transformers of all kinds, to Boston-based hospitals and medical centers; to people who do their best in making meaning (and changes in their lives); to sleep-study expert Lori, her daughter Allie, and Allie’s friend Isabella; and to you — of course! — for the meaning you are making, today.