After MakeItUltra posted a promotional blog piece, I’ve got a very dazzling, overwhelmingly amount more of followers. ( Thank you MIU ! )
So much so, I feel slightly bashful.
Flattered,humbled..stopped short in my movement.
I know I will keep posting the same as always, but it awe-jolts my breath a little to know that some are climbing onto this raft for the first time; that more people have the potential to gather a great deal about me.
This bursted composure is initial and will pass, but to note of such impact on myself is something I knew I had to share with you.
Thank you new followers. The roots of a new happy have taken position in my heart. I look forward to sharing with you and learning the content of your mind – for that is a mighty special space to have access to.
You are weak, you are strong, you are every lyric to every song. You bend my blood right to the core and plant my feet on every floor. So I am everywhere because of you and I don’t know what you do but I love and I hate it and for the life of me I can’t escape it.
There’s this distinct pallet of happymess under my skin. I don’t know if it’s because I’m still feeling the percentage of alcohol or whether it’s because I’ve got direction in my heart. It feels pretty, that’s for sure. It feels like confidence. It feels like I don’t want to let it go.
Half dazed with half the sleep dust in the crevices of my half open eyes
sitting on the back porch with the blue jays tweeting without the use of cellphones
talking in depth with Father about our life situations
and it will be so deep of a conversation I could dive in at the shallow end and still not hit bottom.
Oh Saturday mornings once in a blue sunshine of a day
they impact whole heartedly.
I drank last night for the first time since March 11th 2016.
It was alright. I didn’t go crazy. I got real tired real quick. And at the end, I felt bad for the stupid dill pickle chips I ate.
Drinking kind of splattered my health kick everywhere. That’s a thing about drinking that I forgot.
I still feel rather drunkified.
But yuh know, sitting across from a 52 year old male who talks about his antique finds and putting my social skilling to use, was actually pretty rewarding. I reminded myself of what I was good at. It can be dangerous, but this time I know that. I know he’ll like me and want to see me again and that meeting like this, changes everything about our future encounters. I know that my skills still work and I’m more aware of them than I was when I last used them.
So anyhoozle, my night out interacting under the slight of influence was beneficial.
And that’s that!
I am not on good behaviour. I AM it. I am not dieting with happiness. I AM it.
I have good disposition and awareness, the desire to be in a positive ball of change.
I’ll roll and I’ll roll and if I wipe out-because I often do- I have made it the habit to pick myself up and dust off the drips from my eyes, pat my bruises and smirk a little.
I have made it automatic to have Pride walk in and hug me after each time I get up.
And thats Motivation being cool and taking my hand. Which keeps me being the ball of positive and bouncing back up and off of walls.
This is not behaving good or feeling tremendous or hoping for the best.
It is BEING good. BEING tremendous. BEING the best.
Being isn’t tempermental.
It’s a life long habit of wonderful wonderful things you get to choose.