I’m not sure where to begin today. Nevertheless, I sit in the center of multiple intersecting circles, pulling threads to see where they’ll lead.
It’s such a chaotic space; leaves my stomach in a burning tangle with webs and origami folds in my heart.
I have a magical needle and thread to mend the tears when things start to fray.
It’s a necessary process throughout my day.
If I were a blanket, I’d be an heirloom quilt. Intricate patterns, swirled from pieces of soft cotton and silk. I would defy the odds of ordinary, just because.
Back to my focal point (see, how easily I stray?)
Where is my day going?
It’ll be stuffed between the norm of laundry, feedings, and carpool musts and the impending anxiety of spring’s [heart] break and a sojourn minus two-thirds of me.
I know it’s senseless to worry but I still do. I stub my toe and wonder, will it need to be removed?
Nothing is simple because I dwell in a surreal land of hyper-speed-extroverted-feelings in an introverted-min[e/d]field.
I clickety-click and read through scores of words, each syllable is one thousandths of a tear drop in an incessant sea of seen and unseen. Sometimes I lean on lists and quotes; music often funnels through stirred with a poem or two…maybe three. Other times, I walk around my garden looking for answers between a flicker and a flash of a hummer’s wings.
Until I finally say, enough is enough!
How and when that final threshold is achieved? Sigh, I really don’t know. I believe my body ceases to formulate, one more query and puts up a fight with a colossal head, stomach or pain in the neck. It’s when I’ve hit a glass wall and need to:
“Shut my eyes in order to see.” ~ Paul Gaugin.
Therefore, before I get to the state of an incredible internalizing-diabolical-unrest, I will pick from my list of 1001 – only, 3.3 items will get done.