My youngest is flapping their wings for more independence.
I get alarmed because it feels like they are tearing apart our fragile foundation.
But, if the work we have done so far needs to be reconfigured to add more flex in the system, the benefits will be better for both of us.
It is a confusing, restless, and proud time when a fledgling is ready to start learning how to fly on their own.
The cats have been driving me crazy by their timing to escape into and out of doors and tripping my feet – even after I have given them what they have asked for.
And the dogs, picking up on the cats demanding themes now constantly lick their lips with repeatedly darting tongues to remind me – bombarding me with incessant requests for more treats!
Checking out script writing, finishing Bachelors, and going on to a Masters.
I am now in a position to tap into doing what I do best.
Just a little bit of sliding suction cupping on my leg fascia combined with Rocking Compression where bound began loosening fibers to where expansion stretching is responding again along prior surface adhesions.
Further application treatments should allow me to ultimately restore slide and glide responsiveness of my muscles against bones and each other, as well.
I have found another tool to add to my therapy!
My brain needed the mental clarity boost, but ultimately my heart and adrenals said “no.”
“Ma’am, do you know why you have been pulled over?” the officer asked politely.
“No, I do not,” I replied honestly.
“It’s because you rolled through that stop sign back there,” he informed me.
“Oh! That wasn’t a rolling stop – I never roll through a stop sign,” I replied cheerfully.
“I stopped precisely, then resumed going again by catching my vehicle’s continuing momentum!” and I outlined my precise perspective with added hand gesturing.
He began laughing at my truthful cajolery, and in the end, kindly let me go with a warning.
In return, I promised that I would stop even longer because “those university students like to jump out into the street without any warning!”
Now that we let the cats free-roam most of the house, the dogs are jealous and concerned about their positions – and all of the furry, four-legged critters have been testing me.
Maybe it was me all along who was caught in a waking coma.
Apparently the pain in my too-tight lower legs has stored the grief of losing my beloved before we had ever truly begun.
Right before the accident, I was on my way to tell my beloved that I had figured out the problem.
But I arrived too late – or just in time to try to save him.
There was no room to speak of our truth in the face of his free will being so violently disrupted.
So I instead focused on building a life around him so that when he returned to himself, he would have something to call his own.
Yet, somewhere in the struggles, worry, and best attempts, I still lost my best friend.
A concept of which has possibilities.
“855 symbolizes perfect timing for new beginnings. As well as good luck in relationships, spiritual enlightenment, and finding one’s life purpose and success in the near future. Furthermore, 855 has a biblical meaning that encourages us to take control of our destiny by taking initiative with every decision we make.”
Things have been going so well at last to where I have recently been feeling twitchy that some bad thing is about to happen.
(It is a product of longterm stress and distress, and I now know the subject to discuss in tomorrow’s counseling session.)
So when I got an unexpected call from my office mate when I thought that all things between us were secure and coveted, dread and panic began flooding my system.
But when I looked at her text as the phone was ringing for me to answer, she was calling to offer me an appointment for massage because one of her clients had canceled!
I like having some version of red dye in my hair because it calls forth my inner fire to where I have easy access to my natural exuberance; the color brings forth the details of my face better; and the hues compliment the healthy, rosey glow of my skin tones.
I need converters for ability to transfer photos from my phone to laptop, and to watch my exercise videos from laptop on the large living room monitor.
A day to defrag.
No one knew that I was wearing my two “new” acquisitions of clothing (which were the highlights of a dwindling monocrome supply from poverty): a pair of fashionable black shorts and a summer blouse covered in delicate blue flowers over a black background.
Observing another small fly’s movements were severely slowing down, I released it from my window screen to die free.
“I need sod…for my sod garden!”
I have several plastic square bins from the dollar store filled with old containers of prescription medication.
Clearly, I need to sort and properly dispose of them, but such a task is tedious.
And I wonder, how messed up would I have been had I taken them when doctors were blindly troubleshooting my then symptoms?
The little tyke, smaller than the usual irritator, moved by short bursts upon the inside of the window screen, seeking a way to return to its natural course of living.
So while it was stuck between partially slid-open glass and mesh, I carefully removed the screen and released it before it could become frightened and fly back into my bathroom.
When we first met, it felt briefly like kismet – until he said out loud how happy he was that I was a brunette.
Feeling elated, myself, at our chance meeting, I playfully informed him that, in fact, I was a natural blond with blue eyes from California.
Upon hearing this, the door to our proceeding was abruptly barred shut to me because he was afraid of his family teasing him about my origins.
I have seen myself stripped time and again down to just the bare bones of my humanity and have felt so raw, so vulnerable, that I can not fathom how realistically a worthwhile man would be able to step up – let alone would want to better shelter me.
When I am “under assault” again, I think to myself, “I must never let someone be able to get this close to me again,” as my confidence is shattered and hope for a better future is destroyed.
Being a parent and healer puts me in a constant position of careful recalibration where it is never fully a relax-and-let-go situation.
Thinking that I could find a partner to “let down my hair with” can seem like pure fantasy when I have not met guys of equal or greater capability.
I had two breakthroughs on my script yesterday, yet I am supposed to hold them close and not share them publicly in order to build their value.
But what glory can they receive as being mere moments captured onto paper, left sitting on a dusting shelf while waiting for their counterparts?
I can reach behind my back on both sides again!
Today we take out the drums again and potentially join a new creative society.
I prefer to avoid being labeled and quantified by a moment’s passing imagery.
Self ownership must be my highest priority.
I have always exhibited and promoted good morality and service to others.
But now, I must claim my entirety.
Zoom in to the center to see.
Language is ever growing and changing according to human needs and understanding.
I have often balked against anyone determined to instruct me differently, being as history supports my theory.
I have always been a part of my body, but not always inside of my body.
It has been a default of survival’s necessity to dissociate in order to preserve capability of strategizing.
The phrase “rock bottom” comes to mind when rebuilding from what we have come through.
They say to open your heart to it, and it shall arrive, ever flowing.
But even though I claim after reach for this, it is taking time to shake off lack’s anxiety.
They say that if I let go of the past, I can then have the present and be free to expand into the future.
But realistically, I can not fully let go of the past until the present leads me into the future.
For once I am experiencing new beneficial stimulation, only then will I be more able to let go of what until then has defined me.
When we were without a home for the second time, the crushing grind of circumstantial resistance as I would show up each day to push against it weighed heavily upon me.
I kept battling back thoughts of self doubt and considerations of my being unworthy while attempting to sail well through existential crisis.
Did I have a right to assert my claim for a home? Was it foolish or important to keep holding on to this ideal of a throne?
My subjects kept on a hillside awaited through heat and then rain. Now as I water our garden, we praise life together again.
I am likely more needed
As well-spoken support.
Since we moved into our new home, whenever a specific small yappy dog of our neighbors pack goes into their backyard and hears anything from us, she has continued barking aggressively with her high-pitched shrillness, causing my stress levelss to hike to new proportions.
But, we have never yelled at her or told her to be quiet (though lord knows that I have muttered curses under my breath because in this type of situation, I am no saint!), thinking that perhaps over time she would accept us as non-threatening and chill out.
Yeah, right.
Nope.
Never has happened.
Until…
Until this evening when I was planting the irises right up to the fence and she came snarling at me as usual, posturing up to the fence.
I broke my silence at last by pouring all tbis delighted love and joy into my voice, saying something like, ” Well Hi there! Aren’t you the sweetest darling thing! How are you doing?!” In a “come here and let me love and hug all over you” type of voice.
Two more barks to test my reaction, more excited welcoming love-voicing – and she ran away shutting her mouth, wanting none of it!
This evening, I planted 52 purple bearded irises transplanted from an acquaintence’s efforts to thin out overcrowding at her apartment complex.
I have desired to have this specific type as they are gloriously gorgeous when they bloom and smell enchanting.
All that time on the mountain, I kept chiding myself to not be upset, prodding myself to keep lifting my chin.
But, we didn’t belong there – anymore than a fish being put onto dry land can learn to swim.
We belong here.
It is a place where we can begin.
I have a whole inner world that I am living as it processes experiences.
Looking back, it is wild to see how much I waited on my partner to come investigating.
Meanwhile, the rest of the world had no clue about my expansive points of view.
I realize now that for so long I have been responsible for ensuring others’ well being.
It is a part of my nature that enjoys nurturing, so philosophically, I have no problem with this.
In fact, I am proud of my track record’s history.
However, this is the first time when I can schedule staying in bed sometimes until late morning and take moments with the dogs to bask outdoors in the sun for a few minutes.
It feels good to get a good bone bake, and I realize that for too long, this has been lacking.
I now get to be more self indulgent.
“Ah, that’s the stuff of dreams…”
I was speaking in complex conversation weavings with my youngling today and when I reached for it, I was able to ask for and divine through the parting layered clouds of my mind Neil deGrasse’s name!
I was so excited!!!
A song by Stephen Stills that is so powerfully beautiful in its manifestation of the sense of love, yet its overall message promotes infidelity.
Honestly, it hurts.
I can perceive so much and yet feel the vast emptiness.
There is no answering call.
No conversations to fill and grow my mind.
I am starved.
Not desperate – although the hunger could drive me to be.
Just craving.
Needing.
Wanting.
That right kind of interaction that satisfies.
Yearning.
It is amazing how much negative messaging we have been fed to persuade our feeling bad about wanting to have and experience real connection.
I am withdrawing from the dating sites because A) I do not like getting locked into paying for a service that does not guarantee results nor quality, and B) I am not a person who is part of the mainstream’s common reality.
Candid Corvid Productions 