You have walked into my Diary. Welcome! Hopefully, my musings will touch you. Check out my novel "The One That Got Away" on amazon http://tinyurl.com/ljcj8xh
Growth seems rather Straightforward and natural. Reaching generally for the sun, Adjusting to obstacles and twists in the plot as needed, Hopeful and expectant of what seems to be expected. Occasionally, Weeding needs to be attended to, Which is hard work, but feels expected too.
But what of those unexpected Devastations that decimate the familiar playing field, and render it littered with the broken pieces of what used to resemble a Life lived... A tragic situation, A death, A betrayal?
Slapped with disbelief, mired in pain, unable to see the sun.
But the cracks in our brokenness Let the sun in at different angles Shining in different places of our being, Deeper places where growth is needed, but as yet Untouched by the sun.
The playing field is purged, barren, and open. It begs the opportunity to reexamine and rebuild. Routines, habits and boundaries that were once accepted and rigid, Thoughtfully studied What to keep What to discard How to keep growing Growth becomes conscious choices Informed and fluid based on experience to reach directly for the sun.
Now I know how I want to grow. It has become lucid choice, not wandering happenstance. Learn, grow & bloom always Not stagnate, dry & wither for any reason. Journey on, and well.
Within this bizarre time we are all living, with the challenges we are all facing, we should all take the opportunity in this pause of our ceaseless ordinary busy-ness to embrace the clarity and power of our togetherness, thwart divisiveness, and fiercely work to build the structure of a cohesive, kind humanity.
We want to assign logic to our existence and experiences.
But the Sea shifts and swells
Reducing our assured Truths to fragments
Or losing them altogether in the tide.
And new sparkles of insight appear on the sunlit horizon.
But is meaning essential?
To try to understand that which is so immense and overwhelming within our narrow view may not be the point.
Perhaps it is more conducive not to swim mightily for a destination, or worse to drown from the weariness of the distance, or flounder helplessly in the undertow.
Instead, float within the purity of what is; the flow around us.
Embracing the sense of weightlessness, the soft lapping by our ears, the aroma of continual change, the snap of saltwater on the tongue, the dazzle before our eyes as the sun dances on that Sea.
Absorbing the hopes, despairs, inspirations, love, and heartbreak in as a wave and sending it out again to continue its cycle of fluidity.
Learning and evolving from every experience, large and small, sensing instead of deciding what is necessary.
Unencumbered by the need to understand or harness the Sea of our life.
I had awaken with what I will call a Balloon Face. Yes, I am exaggerating, but that was what came to mind. My eyelids were puffy and when I glanced downward, I could see the left side of my face poking out. A look in the mirror confirmed my ghastly appearance. I had diligently scrubbed and rescrubbed my face the night before. My face had been deeply caked with artfully applied makeup the day before to render my face appropriate for a professional looking photograph. Amazing stuff, that makeup. The resulting pictures were quite impressive. I believe that my face trauma was due to the fact that under normal circumstances it is generally naked. I am not a big makeup person. Eyeliner and mascara complete my look. When I was in high school my face was occasionally splattered with stage makeup for plays, and I will admit to experimenting with some more extensive looks, but ultimately my face became used to a minimalistic approach to embellishment. My face was now rebelling and swelling.
This instance took me back in history to the only other time that my face reacted in such a way. The culprit, surprisingly, was chocolate cake; Black Forest chocolate cake. I have no idea why it’s called that, but it does sound rather eerie, doesn’t it? It wasn’t because I ate the cake, it was because the cake was smeared on my face by my friend Carol. We were not children. We were adults with our own children, and we basically had a food fight, or a chocolate cake smear to be more exact. I will admit that I started it. It was a beautiful chocolate cake that had not yet been touched. Carol said something very funny to me that demanded an extremely witty, sarcastic reply. Instead, I completely startled her by gouging the cake and depositing it on her surprised face. I will have to say that her expression was absolutely priceless and it was worth everything that I received as a result of my action. Of course she retaliated. Our other girlfriend and all three husbands watched in disbelief. They were sure that we had lost our giggling, childish minds. When playtime was over, we dutifully cleaned up our mess as all mature adults should do. That’s when my face began to swell. The ballooning of my face only made everything more hilarious to us.
The chocolate cake incident became the cornerstone of future practical jokes that Mandy and I would play on each other throughout the years. It is a fond, distant memory brought suddenly to my mind by my recent makeup induced face expansion. It is odd what can trigger vivid memories. I just hope that whatever was in the makeup that made my face swell is not the same ingredient that we were eating in that cake!
I really like waking at O’ Darkthirty on most days. It gives me a chance to breathe the quiet and settle into my day. A new day that could and will bring anything. Some things expected, some surprises. My goal is to make each one count. I meet each predawn with anticipation and a musing cup (or 3) of coffee.
Dear Diary .... by Kellianne Sweeney 