Here we are again

Freshly scrubbed toes under a mound of cats and blankets all letting their frayed edges rest for now. Our seams not as tidy as we might want but who has time to keep it all together these overstuffed days. Finding time to maintain sanity, being obligatory, puts me under one cover or another long enough to make do more than make love, but who's even keeping track?! Making do is a feat in itself and well worth celebrating with a smidgeon of slumber.

in the eye of now

..and now, seemingly all of a sudden, everything I have ever wanted to do, all of my whistling teakettles on the back burners, imagined adventures, rainy day plans, simple goals, outrageous ambitions, secret aspirations, all rush into my morphing agenda as I sit in contemplation of what to do next. What task, frivolity, or craving will I surrender to in these waning hours, minutes, moments, before my being is consumed once again by the emotional needs, physical nourishment, and spiritual development of another. What do I do? What activity shall I choose? Which list to tackle? What process to implement? Where to go? How will I ever get it all done? Who should I get to help me? Why am I still sitting on this couch…. overwhelmed by all the choices… while time is slowly narrowing down the options?! Is this soul sabotage, or some kind of Zen-like need for nothingness? I surrender!.. I surrender! To anything and everything! I surrender to need… I surrender to desire…. I surrender to myself. I have unsung songs to release and red boots to buy. I have treatments to attempt and sandwich bread that could use fetching. I have gift cards to deplete and loads and loads of laundry to wrap myself up in. Stacks and stacks, bins and bins, of all things imaginable and long left to sort, toss, or redeem if all forces come together in a grand spurt of accomplishment!
As I sit… deciding to check my email… oh, no! Not the vortex of endlessness! Obviously to blog or not to blog superseded the decision, and now… since I'm on the computer and all…..

Leaping into the years ahead

balance

these new frontiers in which to frolic, forage for life force, fritter away phases of affinity
these pages awaiting inner exploration, ego exploitation, psyche renovation
demands, deadlines, self imposed judgement jamming goals down ruby throat soul
needing nectar, sweet simple nectar,
sugar coat my dose
life is too big to swallow
love so sour
or so sweet it's sticky
feed me vital means made dulce
dissolved in essence of dream
this solution to sip while under the influence of harder stuff
like finding a place to put my rut

Posted one on

and then one day this giant transition made itself more apparent by lasting longer than the decade it took me to notice. Mid life raced by in it's iMobile laughing at my suitcases and suitcases of hard, soft, and dusty drives waiting to be unpacked and reformatted into melodic little scrapbooks that would remind me of the fleeting moment I shook fifteen minutes worth of Andy Warhol's hand. Art, illusion, melody, and blueberries would all collide in a smorgasbord of experience and adventure. A button here, a postcard there, and a palm print to measure moonbeams and the distance between your rhubarb pie plate and mine.