What Is This Feeling?!

It is familiar, true. I’ve felt it before, yes. The name is right on the ol’ tip of the tongue…Aha! Relaxed/calm/drama free for awhile. Typed that and immediately thought of a shoe dropping. That’s ok, I countered with, “I hope it’s a purple one.”

How interesting to have a good feeling pop up, how weird to question what the feeling was…I’ve become very comfortable with negativity, I suppose. In me and in others.

Remembering another blog entry about being a resident in the town of Woe-Is-Me. Some people become residents but for a short while, others will never leave it. The permanets have been elected to the City Council…aka they know how to bitch.  They have the patent on suffering/pain/I can’t do that!/huh? Then we have the wimbirds…those who come and go according to what is happening in their lives. They stay long enough to rest, lasso courage, and ride off into the storm, singing off key. They’ll return whenever the need arrives, they have no intention of staying.

Playing was refreshing and childlike and I’ll do it again and again.

I made the grass angels, got rained on, cupped my hands and drank that magic rain. Let it drip from my hands, run down my face, felt it merge with tears.

The good tears and the magic rain.

Bad tears are those that are bottled up, good ones are those that found their way to the light.

After the lightening came within what felt like inches, I sat on the patio and watched and thought but didn’t wail in frustration…for a change.

It interested me that I sat there, feeling good, but not giving the lightening the attention it should have…

How many times do I do that as I walk my path of healing?

Hear the severe weather in the background and ignore it?

Ignore the storms gathering in my spirit?

kinda like I asked for trouble?

left myself wide open?

thought I was rooted in safety?

denied play time was needed and needed NOW?

Blush, blush.

Bit my butt, it did.

Coming down a peg or two is not nearly as much fun as going up three or four of ’em.

Gonna get a bandaid for the bitten butt.

Root around and find, “The Gods Must Be Crazy.” Part One.

Add a few to my laugh lines, all forty thousand of them.

You see, it’s forty thousand because I’ve had more laughs in my life than tears…and who the hell ever heard of tear lines?







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