Friday Afterthoughts is a new blog series that came to me years ago, yet I didn't act on it. The courage never came, the instruction manual never arrived, no bouncy and enthusiastic writing or business coach came on the scene telling me to write the blog series because it was my destiny. None of that. In fact I greatly resisted it. To be honest, my excuses were pretty convincing and maybe some were truthfully valid. The muse never left my side, even though they tell you this is how they work. They dance in, inspire you and poof! Gone. You either take on the inspiration or it goes elsewhere with the muse. I don't they work that way. They are dream gardeners and sowers of seeds. She planted a seed and it kept growing. Until it no longer fit in it's original size and I hadn't yet created the space. So, yeah. Things were getting pretty tight and confining in my world. I lived that way for some time . . . miserably. It didn't matter, how compact I became. It showed up everywhere else in my life.
One day, I decided to figure out what was happening to several of the succulents in my home. They seemed to be growing strangely narrow and tall. I didn't understand this because, these particular plants are meant to beautifully spread. I did some research and found what they were lacking. Light; sun! They were trying to grow towards whatever light they could find. This felt familiar. We my adapt to survive, but what we need is just a matter of locating what we need. Otherwise we may become narrow and lost.
So yeah. There is more to this story. Especially the title, but I'll get to that later. I hope you find some inspiration here within the madness of my thoughts. Friday afterthoughts are random. These posts may occur weekly, but most likely sporadically. Always on a Friday. I share my current thoughts, the things I might be mulling over. New insights or discoveries, my experiments, books I'm reading. The current dream-story I'm crafting. Enjoy!
My current existential question or crises, depending on how you wanna look at it.
My revised translation regarding life-living is: a series or stories, experiences spun into the meaning we give. Depending on the sum of those experiences, a consequence or action may occur or be required, so we alter our stories all the time. We switch in between the dimensions of our storied life in order to continue on breathing in a well thought out or beautifully dreamed up reality. But, when that reality pierces us, blindsides us, harms us- we pay attention. I'm looking at all the connections lately.
Still with me? Okay, good.
Collage. It's where my thoughts untangle and softly drift away. When my awareness realizes...nothing. is happening.
Death is never going to make sense. Sometimes I find myself trying to explain to people how death isn't concerned with it's meaning.
Speaking of . . . I've been into this song lately by Ibeyi.
Favorite drink as of late: earl grey latte, aka: iced London fog. If you are local to me, Foxwood Coffee & Tea has the best in the area imho. It's called a "Frisco Fog." Also, get the California bagel. Cream cheese drizzled with pesto and topped with a big slice of (heirloom) tomato. Seriously delicious. I also like foxes so I'm a big fan of this family owned cafe.
We sit on the couch together, our bodies side by side. We hold hands. I think to myself of how fortunate we are to have found each other. I feel a wave of gratitude rush over me. I look at him and his eyes meet mine as if he knew exactly what I was feeling in that moment.
This dog. I finally mastered her barks. There is a particular low "warning bark" when a random passerby, be it a neighbor jogging past or a delivery driver gets too close to the end of the driveway. She has a tiny bump of a bark when she wants to come back inside after a potty break. A little squeal and dance when she wants out. A short muffled bark in the morning to wake us up. This dog. She has trained me well.
The intensity of my process lately has required that I clear space. I just didn't think it would be so dramatic, but the liberation is incredible. More on this later.
Welcome to my Virtual Journal. Here you will find #fieldnotes of a Medial Woman. I write unabashedly imperfect, mostly short, even one-line word play. I share story. I share- first, my process. I view my life-living as a grand experiment and I am taking notes, mapping a trail with moments, stories and synchronicities.
I write about...