Call me Maybe

I have been absolutely Lah-may at writing lately.  It sure isn't for lack of wanting to.  At some point when I am independently wealthy, I will be blogging away, for I will have all the time in the world for it.  There are times I'd love to be writing but then the cat walks by me and has crap smeared on her fur somewhere and I have to get up and try to clean off a greased pig.  Or, you know, something like that happens.  I still wonder about the presence of Flip and how that translates to me not doing all that I was doing before.  I certainly can't blame another person for what I am or aren't getting done.  So it's not you, it's me.

Right now Humanling is on the phone with her father.  That means in a moment, the phone may be travelling along the well worn hallway to me.  Writus interruptus.  

But in the meantime, I grapple with balance and life. All in good and enthusiastic ways of course.  When the 'relationship' is in my life I allow it to move into those creative, fertile places in my mind.  And with the same crops being sown over and over again, the land is becoming barren, until I finally choose to rotate those crops yet again.

Recently, Marc Allen was on my show.  Marc is one of the founders of New World Library which is a kick ass publishing company.  He's written a number of excellent books as well.  He puts things in such a simple and accessible way that you feel there is absolutely no way you can fail at achieving anything you want.  I just looked at my bank account and am currently achieving making those numbers look like they did on payday.  Granted, things happen, holidays happen. Running out to the store to buy pecans for $7.39 just to re-create the stuffing that you made the night before because you left it at your mom's house and really really really wanted the leftovers is probably not necessary.  But it's a true story.  

As is the two line story about a fella on Facebook sending me a link to Bourbon Enthusiast.com last night. Such compassion toward the obvious bourbon drinker.  Either way, he's a fellow Scorpio so I'll trust his judgment.  However, it does tell me that I post about bourbon Way Too Much.  

The child is going with her dad tonight and sleeping over. Flip is in PA visiting family but has asked me last minute to walk his pup and is hoping that I shall be waiting for him in his drafty and dog scented abode when he gets home.  Ah, I do not know.  I will probably end up there but  have comfortably entered the land of saying "Maybe".  I enjoy limited time together and have come to really enjoy entering my sanctuary here.  Weekends are precious and I used to sit outside in the mornings and blog but the weather is sort of taking over and some weekends the To Do Lists are too tall to sit comfortably without Duty hanging over me.  No one wants duty hanging over them.  

What I'd LOVE to do is kill some bourbon and go see the final bite of Twilight.  Money is scolding me otherwise.  So who knows.  There is much to read in this house. 

I will probably be taking the laptop along with me for the ride to Cavey's house for when I drop off the Ling that is my human.  Pop into a Starbucks, enjoy something hot and write for a bit.  Read some Marc Allen.  Or right now, before I allow duty's claws to keeping tugging at the elbow of my sweater, put up a separate Weekend Wish List post.  How I love those.  

Soaking In It

I like taking late, quiet lunches at work. If I go at the tail end of serving time, I can sit and read in a decent silence. I’m not anti-social per se, but do enjoy my own quiet space wherever I can get it. At home I am usually in the vocal company of my beloved mate or my Humanling. After hearing everything they are saying at times, my head is full of other people’s thoughts, perceptions, news, concerns and current events. I find that I no longer have creative space in my head at that time. I only have room for the very next Have To Do or Think About. All of it practical.

Space is good for the opportunity for all of the Other’s mind confetti to filter nicely down into my being and disperse where it needs to be filed, like a drain. Only then can I start to have the room for my mind to stretch and breathe, then figure out what it is that I am made of. What I default to in thought and how my mind likes to browse as compared to just taking in constant stimuli that belong to others.

I set my tray down at work a few days ago to have that mind yoga for a small piece of time. I noticed that I read voraciously. I ate slowly. My fork actually went down between bites and I wasn’t eating like a rushed mom.

I read my Dharma Road book for a bit, at one point laughing gratuitously out loud for probably a margin too long for conventional taste those who might be around a solo table guest who is laughing. Eventually I looked up and saw there was another small table in front of me with just one person. A girl who I don’t know was also having lunch alone. It seemed a little different than my experience. She ate quickly, sitting down after I’d been seated and finishing before I left. She fidgeted with the plastic coffee cup lid, pulling it back as she stared out of the window. Then she picked up her lunch receipt and read it. I had my book, she was reading a receipt. Something about that action made me imagine loneliness.

It’s not for me to imagine what is lonely for one person or another. But the act of reading a receipt because there is nothing else to do with your eyes sort of made me feel sad. She then got up, removing her tray and left.

Maybe that was all good with her. Perhaps it is some sort of projection on my part. But I admit that I was happy to have my book. Perhaps I just wouldn’t be happy to just look around quietly during lunch by myself with nothing to read except the receipt that tells me what I already know – what I had and how much it was.

I do enjoy my quiet. But mostly with a book or space to think. And maybe that’s what she was doing….taking her own small space to let her mind stretch.