Oh yes, I know the brittle and crucial attacks on my mind. The change and growth. The learning and the formation of new wiring in place. I have reached great depths. My health, the pull only I can give me. Combine the two, and I am no longer battling myself.
I used to think and now I just don’t.
I used to come up with a lot of cool ideas, bring dead flies back to life with my imagination and talk to fish in my sleep.
Now I just don’t.
I used to think stars were the eggs of the future and they would hatch when they would fall from their incubator space and make humans when they landed on baseball fields.
The one thing I could think of to think of now, is the difference in the last post and this one. The title is the same. But the content is different. How easy not to think what we are thinking about what we are reading.
How easy to form an idea on the title of a post. And be completely wrong. Only because we thought it.
I used to think, but sometimes it’s easier if I don’t.
I used to think you just pretended not to know, but now I know you really don’t know. I thought you acted dumb so you could get more out of people. But now I know. You have a brain of a really really smart dinosaur.
Wine in a mug at a party you’d been at for an hour and it still tastes the same as when it was in a wine glass before you left your house.
Fresh: because sometimes your mind talks to your taste buds like they’re trying to be a part of the flavour. Eight drinks in, your mind can talk and your palate can handle a stronger drink.
And when your mind crumples and you no longer taste wine, but sleep;
that’s when the night is done and the morning looks like sipping a Caesar.
Its easier to be mindful when you put your mind to it.
Do you miss a person?
Take that idea and hold it in your heart. Now we’re going to inspect.
Perhaps you just miss the feelings he created within you. How he or she made you feel clever, hopeful or even better as a person. Perhaps she was a creative outlet in which you were appreciated- for your wacky brain, your confidence in creating. Maybe you don’t miss him at all but all the things he provided. Safety, stability, being cared for. Even the person you were when you were with him.
It may be that you don’t really miss who she is as a person, but rather the world of what it meant to have someone there. To connect with and share with.
Really let your heart feel out on all angles, what this miss actually is for.
Next I want you to ask yourself what of that miss, you can supply on your own.
Getting into a comfortable relationship with yourself is so incredibly important but it’s often the thing we focus on the least.
Administer the value on yourself, yourself. Take moments to actually laugh at how silly you are being or how radical you know your mind is. Validate your beautiful existence yourself. If this means making a sticker chart and rewarding each recognition with an end of the week treat? Then do so.
Fill this ‘miss’ void as much as possible. Wrap up love and give that gift to yourself over and over again.
In the end, you’ll find you are much stronger and funner then you thought you were and whatever miss you felt for a person or a place,is less- simply because you’re able to produce the feeling of being cared for, yourself.
May I remind you too, you don’t need someone else to make you better. If you like who you are when you are ‘better’, go be that without the crutch of someone else.
If you can do that, your ‘better’ just got a whole lot better.
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.
Three scoops of cinnamon loose leaf
To drink up the spiced love of
Viewing the heart of the red; it is
It is the only way I want to
The silence fills the temples of my brain
so that it roars with the consistency of you.
Your echo reaches into the walls
the ones you navigate so well through
and in them, continue your empire.
Sometimes out into the butterflys of the air
” You’re dead, you died, you’re gone.”
The power of convincing is a strong weapon
and I have my heart arms around it tightly.
The windows cloud with discontent,
upset at you for making my thoughts
my heart on the other hand
holds hands with yours
” You’re alive, you live, you are here.”
A battle between two things
that are within
two feet of existence of one another,
the head and the heart.
How does one make them best friends?
I come home from a day of post idea after post ideas that continued to litter my brain floor throughout the hours of the sunlight and when I sit down to write with tea, pyjamas and cozy wrapped around, I cannot find them. They are gone. As if a swifter or one of those automatic alien vacuumn machines buzzed around and sucked them up.
What’s that all about Braino!?