what I've been thinking about.
which is ironic b/c of how much I've been thinking about how we're not our thoughts. our thoughts are invaders. we are consciousness. and awareness. so then my thoughts are just interlopers.
our obsession with youth, so much so that we have lost any sense of connection (or appreciation, or time spent gaining wisdom) from our elders.
stillness. or the lack thereof. to rush, or not to rush. I want to find stillness but while I’m still moving around at top speeds doing.all.the.things. Is that version of stillness possible?
how dead inside it makes me feel when i have to read instructions - for anything, i.e. operating instructions, user manuals for new gadgets, board game rules…I just cannot bring myself to care.
how my three year old’s voice when she whines is the exact frequency that dissolves all my resolve.
portals everywhere. the spilled gasoline rainbow in the cement, the puddle reflecting the sky, the swirling galaxy left in my bowl after my lunch of purple cabbage sautéed in olive oil
nature > any tech, e.g. tree trunks > linkedin bios
how my friend’s voices are medicinal. glittery. honey. buttery.
some sounds are warfare. a bathroom fan left on, or the one over the stove. someone nonchalantly whistling or the refrigerator making ice when no one is home so every clunking sounds surely means murder is imminent.
everything about parenting is juxtaposition and polarity.
noticing what words sound nice to say inside my mouth. like achilles, lackadaisical, placate.
how the birds send me messages. how i have to caveat any story about my bird messengers with the acknowledgement that it’s gonna sound woo-woo. and how i wanna make woo-woo the new normal.
my longing for rituals.