Wednesday, November 16, 2011

There's a Hole in My Stocking

(dear Liza, dear Liza)                                     


A big freaking hole right above my right ankle.

I planned my outfit out last night just before bed.  The green skirt my sister gave me that is above the knee, but in no way a ... ahem ... a mini.  The long sleeve green cotton pullover with a white cami underneath.  My sensible brown Pappagallos.  And the brown patterned tights that are just right underneath all this green.  (note to self:  I own waaaaay too many green articles of clothing!).  I was a bit shy about wearing it, but as I slipped it on, I felt a little flutter of pleasure - this skirt and tights combo felt right.  Something I haven't felt in my clothes/body in a long damn time.  Thrills!

And then I noticed the hole.

Oh, piss.

Then I channeled my inner Agatha Christie, took a black Magic Marker, and colored my skin.

Friday, November 04, 2011

The Pledge

is kicking my ass.

I spent my entire drive home Tuesday listening to the sounds of silence.  My mind wandered all over the fricking place and I noticed things and I thought cool thoughts and I had ideas and it was wonderful.  I went in to pick Josie up, and I forgot everything. 

Wednesday, November 02, 2011

Silence. I need some.

The world is too much with us: late and soon,

I think that's Emily Dickenson.  No, wait.  It's Wordsworth.  That's what Google is for, right?  Eliminating the need for rumination, filling the void of thought with e-certainty, putting the facts at our fingertips.  In .003 seconds or less.

Been feeling a little overwhelmed lately.   A little frantic.  Unable to concentrate.  Seeking, seeking, seeking.  Always seeking.

Google is my enabler.  Twitter, Facebook and the Elvis Costello Fan Forum as well.  Just learned via Twitter that the amount of data shared online per week tops what the Hubble telescope collected in 20 freaking years.  Don't need to actually read the article - the headline says it all.  I never have one web page up anymore.  It's always 4.  Or 6.  Or 8.  And I never finish reading one before I jump to the next.

Everything is so instant and available that it lacks urgency, yet still commands attention.  Bits want bits, I suppose.  Don't quote me.

So, I'm taking a vacation I mean, pledge.  No more than two pages up at a time. Facebook once a day.  More blogging, less drowning in a tidal wave of trivia.  I don't need to know anything else about Kim Kardashian.  I don't need to compare ways to overwinter geraniums, I need to do something with the damn things before the frost gets them. 

Back to meditating also, before the brutal stew of thoughts gets wound too tight.  Practicing some MINDFULNESS, which I now think I have a sense of - it was just a stupid flavor-of-the-week word that I failed for years to get the gist of.  This may be the step backward right before the breakthrough.  I hope so.  I've been drowning My Little Voice for years.  Years.  Really!  Years and years and years I've been turning the music up, the tv on, grabbing a book, starting a conversation (or a fight), anything but listening to myself, because myself was not something worth listening to, if you follow me.

So, this begins a Pledge of Self-Care.  I will walk, I will do my morning pages, I will meditate.

Hope to see you soon, Unknown Reader(s)!