Selective Destiny

The 41 club.
My doll.
The fact that my friend Tory is a forest fairy.
Wallie & Steven
My beautiful gold cards.
The seasons of my youth.
The Library experience.
Esalen... for real?
Rhythms and Eurythmy.
Rhythms & breathing.
Books. Author. Bodywork.
Get back up on the horse, walk, meditate, track the circle of the sun and the light it hits.
Sing to the birds.
Build garden houses.
Write, read, breathe, walk, run, dance, sing, be.


Making Things

I'd like to make this...
Now, if only time rolled along for me but stopped everything else for a bit.


Just because & why not?

I went to a women's writing group this eve- as I came about it in a serendipitous way I figured I would try and go.
We are all so very different, the 5 of us, and with writing bringing us together it just might work.

Next meeting, 2 weeks and I shall have something to read aloud to this new audience. I am looking for prompts as to which of my many ideas I will go with to develop and...why not...consulted my Purpose cards as I found them frighteningly right on the mark twice now. I was called an Oracle by the younger set so it seemed fitting to get the cards for our weekend away.

Tonight, I asked what to dream about, a three card spread. And, this is what came up.

We shall see if I can remember.

Until then, stories abound!


10 minutes at the end of Friday

Friday night, weekend away. A place in some dry hills, cooler temperatures, farm animal sounds drifting through the air.
I wondered about doing my 10 minutes here, out loud, rather than in the book by hand.
It is so easy to delete here - which I have already done so. The waste - of time - or space - of stuff. It is a waste that I wonder what will happen with the stuff. Is there anything to do with the stuff?
Yet, all in all, it really doesn't matter if I do anything with it or if I do not. Just that I sit here and time the 10 so that I can fulfill my goal - the idea is in the practice.

Not drinking alcohol amongst so many who do is a string of moments to write about.
In this moment, I sit in my bunk, next to the window and nearest a door, as intended, with a party of sorts going on outside and around the corner and a quiet space in here for myself and two others. We do not talk. We are alone with ourselves yet I wonder if they feel my presence as strongly as I feel theirs?
In this moment I am thinking if this is unique to me and perhaps why I like to be alone so often - unburdened then by the intake of all their projecting. Information stretching out from their pores and beyond like a wave hitting me
and I sputter
trying to breathe
and still hold my own self afloat.
Yet, in this manner,
who am I?
Just the flotsam reacting to their jetsam.
vice versa
it really does not seem to matter.

And this phrase - about the phrase it doesn't really matter - which has been spoken a lot, this is what is on my mind now and how I have used it for effect rather than gathering together my intentions and feelings (both before and/or after) on what I wanted to say. Am I cruel to myself on purpose? Is it because as another mentioned in the circles today that I am still procesing the way in which I was developed before I was even born?

I have been exhausted by all the thoughts lately - all the plots for happiness and 100 days of this or that.
Why not just be by myself and live amongst my own thoughts to see how I really am?
Then I wonder about the other component - the relationships with others - would these come to me on my own accord or do we live seeing the supposed perfect scenario and mimic without thinking.

Am I really just this debbie downer when around people all the time dowm deep and joyful when alone in the deciduous forest?
Do I care to stretch the moments together to test out the theory?
does it even really matter?

thoughts going round and round with 11 days to go.



Wrote for 10.
Plank for 60.
10 squats.
Read a book.
Cooked dinner & didn't set table or clear.
Got little boy to bed after bath & books in time.
House clean.
Yard ok.
Halloween decorations in progress.
Talked with friend.
Planned a future event.
Daydreamed a fun scenario.
12 days till 42.
12 days till tipsy.
12 days to get through 41.
Took a photo.
Walked the dog.
Laughed with a big boy.
Thought about decorating improvements.
Sat in the shade.
Concentrated on breathing.
Did a good deed.
Planned a better one.
Experienced a creative moment.
A random postcard brought me to tears.
Received a compliment.
...all in this day.