Sometimes I meet people and sitting across from them looking into their eyes, glistening maybe from happiness or maybe from cannabis, hearing the details in their names or birthdays and jobs or where they've moved here from, I realize with deep giddiness just what the moment is. Something that will only ever be significant to me. Something that will only ever hold meaning for me and the particular sequence of moments I have had up until this moment where I'm sitting here and they're sitting there and we're looking, laughing, and sharing. And I want to reach across the table and lick this virtual stranger's face as my heart bubbles up with joy for what they represent. But I don't. Because for all intents and purposes that is (in)appropriate behavior reserved only for the closest of friends. *lick*
At times my blog feels like a body...my body. I want to color it up. Paint its toes. Lotion up its elbows. And scrape off the dried eye goo from its eyes. I'm constantly posting. In so many angles both seen and unseen. Sharing is my nature and when I come to share and I look at my blog or whatever other else, and it just doesn't look like what I know it to be...it changes. It doesn't reflect the frequency of my own changes but it changes It changes in tone. In focus. In content. In color. In appearance. In readership. The coolest thing over the years has been who reads these words. I don't know all of them. I know the friends who use it to stay in the loop of my shenanigans since I still play the part of the busy i-hate-using-the-phone person. I'm grateful for them and love them. And then there are the rest of the eyes I may or may not ever get to meet. They are plastered around the globe from Beijing to Kazakhstan to Jaimaca. I don't know how they find me
I've been dangling my feet sitting on the tiny point of right now and right here. I feel like I am a billion light years above the ground Smiling brightly and looking down And all I keep feeling while reeling in the magic of being Is how ecstatic I am to be Here
Laundry sits fresh off the clothes hanger in my living room and the Buddha stares at me with his eyes closed. I don't know where the past few days have gone, or where I've been (have I been?), I only know that it is all backwards now. This is the most important change I've ever made. It feels like I've shaved thirty two years off my back. My apartment and everything in it needs a redo. My belly needs emptying. And I need to get myself to a desk before everything changes for the best.
I got my 6 month review at my tech job. It was more like a high-five fest than anything else. My supervisor's unofficial comment was that I was like prozac for the environment. I just sat in my chair giggling and feeling all sorts of the warm fuzzies. That whole morning felt like an ocean of playfulness and happiness. I'm surrounded by people who can reflect that zing for life right back to me, and that just works to make the space around me that much more fun and infused with a kind of uncapped joy. I don't try to be positive or work to look on the bright side of things. The world to me is a magical place, all I see is brightness, all I see is potential, all I see this something I can't for the life of me find all the words to describe - and if you notice it when you see me, or you feel uplifted, or you feel the happiness, it's THAT, that's what I'm looking at and communing with most of my moments - what touches you in those moments is this Thing that I
My jasmine plant is starting to flower. What I love is the way the smallest flower can take over my senses. It reminded me of a house I walk by regularly on my breaks at work. I loved walking by it. And even more so once I learned the story of the man who lives there. One morning, as I was on my usual walk, a man was taking things out of a car parked at this Jasmine House, and putting them into his backpack. He greeted me joyfully. He kind of had that hippy gypsy like vibe with his bandena on his head and his Mountain Equipment Coop backpack. I smiled and said hello, and thanked him for making my morning walks that much more enjoyable because of his Jasmine. He corrected me and said that this wasn't his house. It belonged to his friend who lets him park his car there. He goes on to tell me that the owner of the house is an architect who built and designed the house to be environmentally friendly. My heart smiles. This was just the meeting I needed. That's when the solar