Mind Tumble

Bending moments into garbage bags of warped crinkles. The after of the beginning is the middle of the time where ants run wild in their teeth crunching abilities. Medium is always the rare in a time of easy softness. The lights of cakes whip up their soul in a few minutes and leave a trailing winding upward path of smoke. And we’re supposed to follow it. But our wishes never do. Off the shore the trees lean their way to freedom pieces where chocolate is the least of worries and chips of plastic are the overbearing prize of the individuals that last till the last wind roars.
You’re the bending of the brittle, with the warp and the crinkle in a time of den. When you’re slipping stares and rugged reasons into a solid slot of truth. The type of style air is, is the only thing you don’t know. And it doesn’t matter what you remember, just that you’re the ability of movement. Backwards, forwards, you’re the run of the century. Little crystals of warmth and strength and to hold on to any dab of confidence is what you’ll do to be a moment of a warped crinkled garbage bag.

Moving Time

With shreds and leather bags of purpose,

the air blunders into the future,

as if

that’s the only thing it knows.

Because that’s

the only thing it knows.

Time doesn’t stop when you think it does.

It doesn’t stop when you’re warbled into a moment of precious.

Even when you see a raccoon launch itself onto the road.

It doesn’t even stop when you’re dead.

That’s how superhero it is.

Time? Put me in your moving truck so that I can be superhero with you.

On You

Float it on the outside. Wrap it securely and keep yourself in check. Make moments to be aware so that you can always self improve. And be open to many subjects but have opinions and stand your ground. Have sand sift through your fingers. You don’t have to look but feel for diamonds. And hold onto those gems. Whether it’s people, ideas, or thoughts
-and float them on the outside.

Stop Directing

I’ve seen this happen dozens of times.
It happens with my own child.

Child gets given a new toy. Adult helps get it out of the box. Adult starts puttings pieces together to make what it’s supposed to be.
Child is taken to a new place. The zoo let’s say. ” Let’s go this way to see the zebras!”.

By setting things up for our children, by pushing them to play with a toy the way that it is supposed to be played with, we are taking away their creativity. A moment where there personality can show, where the joy of seeing them make up what they want, exists.
Perhaps the child is interested in the fence. Who cares if you came to the zoo to see some sheep. The child has a desire to bend around wooden posts and it makes him happy.

There are many moments we lose out on simply because we unknownely push our knowledge onto our kids.

Let’s refrain from moulding their minds. Lets let them decide that the cracker wrapper is a blanket for their lego block, that wheels are pillows and hair elastics on the ground are the eyes of what’s underneath.

Stop directing and start seeing blooms of incredible creativity come into play.

Back in Memories

This morning I’ve slipped fast into a sullen place.
I’ve got country music in my ears, cold air blasting and an empty coffee mug.
Country music brings me to the summer of 2011 back in Canada, when it’s all I listened too. My heart aches.
For those people. Those memories.
Memories are special because you don’t get them back.
How intricate are the sad ones mixed in with the bad ones.
How good the idea of leaving it all behind heightens every single thing that happens in my time there.
But it doesn’t matter how much better it makes it.
I would choose to stay there without the idea of leaving.
And maybe next time I go back, it is what I will believe.

I Question My Decision

I awoke at 430am with my head launching repeated questions and thoughts of one of my lifes biggest decisons. The mind spinners that make your tummy ache alittle and your heart race a lot. The thoughts that are so powerful you dont even really have space to be angry with them for keeping you up.

Five years ago I made the decision to come to Thailand. Between now and that first decision, I also made the decision to live here. I don’t remember when it was, I don’t even know that there was a specific moment.

And so here I am laying in bed, wondering if I will regret this ten years from now.
Wondering if I will regret leaving behind all my solid friendships, taking myself out of the equations back in Canada and making one new one here. Will I wish that I would have held off? Will I tell myself that I should have let my early twenties be my drunk, silly and friendship-focused days? I feel a bit saddened and sorry, a bit lonely and worried. I feel outside of Canadian life and maybe that won’t ever really go away..

It scares me.
To think that maybe there will come a time when I will question all that I’ve done and wonder why I chose to do what I did. Maybe I will hate myself for having left people I loved, for moving away from so much laughter and happiness.
I think back to those years leading up to my departure. So much overflowing goodness in them that it forces me to question why. Maybe now that those memories are only just that, they have more of a rosey tinge than actuality. Maybe things had petered out and my friendships were dragging. Maybe it wasn’t as fun as I think it to be now. Maybe it got old.
Maybe in the end I won’t understand why, but I will just accept and believe in whatever reasoning it was back then.
I’ll probably have faith in my own self, to know that I did what was best in that time.

These thoughts continue to circle until I reach this deafening point.
I believe that things happen the way they are supposed to and if I did not meet my husband here and if i met him but did not love him enough to stay, then frankly, I couldn’t say I know a love as strong as this.

I have stayed because of love and that reason is the best conclusion I’ve ever had.