‘Tis the end of the month and that’s a good time to look back and take stock a wee bit. Welcome to Daisy Digest, a compilation of the highs and lows, the things to be grateful for, and more, from the past month. Continue reading →
Did you know that the best laid plans go wherever socks disappear to? Although I read on the Internets lately that socks mostly get lost somewhere in the washer’s inside doohickeys and often end up out the water pipe, hence they should always be in a zipped sock bag. So let’s go with the best laid plans end up wherever all my pens and ponytail holders do, some nether region I couldn’t find on a map if I tried, a magical place propelled by a similarly magical force of pilfering, i.e., stealing said items never to be seen again.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
I’m glad you asked.
I mentioned a few weeks ago we’re heading toward my hibernation time and it’s closer now than it was then. I feel my backward-bear-like self starting to turn inward, reaching for the closest blankie and air conditioning vent to wait out the seemingly endless heat and humidity.
I’m also personally hibernating, as I do, when I’m thinking, contemplating, feeling like I’m growing out of my skin or bursting out of my current “costume” all Hulk-like. On one hand, I’m thankful that I still grow and change. On the other hand, I don’t like the frustration, the impatience it produces, the wondering, the doubt. But can’t have one without the other.
I’m going to electronically sign off, even my Instagram!, until September. I’m curious to see just how much time these screens fill (and steal from me). I’m curious to see what affect it will have on me, on connections, on my writing (especially).
I’ve cut down the screen time a bit already, and lo and behold I spent two evenings writing instead. As I lose more screen time until there’s none (or very little — have to check emails at least a couple times a week*), how much more will writing come to the fore? And what will the writing(s) become? And what will delaying sharing my writing, especially in this quick hit form, do? (I’ve already started to write two blog posts then thought no, I need to WRITE this and opened a Word document or notebook with my handy pen nearby instead.)
May you enjoy the season (literal and figurative) where you are, the great and not so great parts. May you seek to grow and change and always be curious about everything, even if that’s not always comfortable. May your discoveries be plenty and meaningful and lead to wondrous things.
And may the force be with you… always.
Happy peaceful people.
*fun fact: I literally cannot listen to this without getting all teary-eyed. It’s. So. BEAUTIFUL! I almost can’t stand it.
When contemplating change, in addition to traditional INFJ (over)analyzing, I pay attention to the world around me, which I believe sends me signs. I don’t go looking for signs — that defeats the purpose. But if something comes my way, and I see / hear / experience it, and it makes my brain go, “Look! A SIGN!” then I take notice. I contemplate then what the sign may be trying to tell me and where it fits into the contemplating process.
As an INFJ, I spend a lot of time gathering information and intel (consciously and sub so), and also analyzing/questioning/pondering, etc. I do a lot of this silently so most people wouldn’t notice my brain is constantly playing 20 questions / 1,000,000 answers. Sometimes, though, my brain gives me a break and I only think, like, half as much as usual and contemplate silly things that make me laugh. Lucky you, today is that day.
I’m off tomorrow, of my own choosing (yay, vacation days!). That makes this weekend three days long! And that also makes today, Thursday, my Friday. It’s flying by at a snail on a sloth with a broken leg break-neck speed.
There is a battle being waged, my friends, and it’s all in my head. Do I write something or stay silent?
“What I want is songs that echo. The stuff we’re doing now is like somebody’s bed sheets: spread ’em out, soil ’em, ship ’em out to laundry, you know? But our songs…I want us to be able to fold ourselves up in them forever… understand? That’s the most you’ll ever get out of me Wordman. Ever.”
Muse is fickle. (Yours, too? How ’bout that!) Sometimes, she visits for long stretches then disappears. When she does, I’m not sure when she’ll return. I know she’ll be back. She always comes back. She just likes to wander, and, like today’s millennials, doesn’t RSVP if invited and sometimes still doesn’t show up if she says she’s going to stop by (p.s. GET OFF MY LAWN!).
Muse’s visits have been consistent lately, but I wasn’t sure how long she’d stay this time ’round. Then she sent a sign during a recent chat about anxiety with the same person who suggested I might be right for roller derby. Continue reading →
Two times in the past few months, I’ve mentioned roller skating, to two different people. Both times, the person I was talking to suggested I take up roller derby.
“What about me says roller derby that two people now have suggested it?” I asked the second person yesterday.
“Well, it would be a good way to get out the anxiety and frustration you feel,” he said.
It’s that obvious?
And I thought I hid it so well.
Of course, neither said anything about it until I mentioned roller skating. But upon mentioning that hobby from my youth, which I still love, both suggested a sport in which I’d wear knee and elbow pads, a helmet, and a grimace as I shoved past other women, perhaps pushing them into and/or over a railing.
I gave this some thought.
I’m a firm believer that when something comes up more than once there’s a reason.
I looked into roller derby in my area. There are teams. I have skates.
Then one of the women who loves it mentioned on the website about the blood. …. … … Oh, no, no, no can do. I could never be a vampire either.
So… maybe the message is to find a way to deal with anxiety and frustration that’s been coming my way, and twas not a message to lace up my skates and pounce.
Well, I could go skating, pleasantly, calmly, in circles, perhaps to the greatest hits of the 80s. That would be relaxing, and wouldn’t involve the blood-induced fainting that’s sure to ensue if I decided to whip it, whip it good.