Living Life

So i've been tossing ideas around my brain all weekend, like super balls bouncing off the walls of a play room of boys and walking around my part of america with a brandnew sensitivity for just about EVERYTHING.

and would you know I noticed I wasn't laughing so hard as before. How can i? people are sacrificing and dying for me and my family and country today.

then i faced the demons head on in my head and told them to go straight back to hell cause, yes, someone is dying for me today and so i'm gonna laugh harder than i ever did yesterday. i'm going to smile so warm at the bum outside the grocery store, he may just follow me to my car. and i'm going to overlook the differences between me and the next human i meet because we have too much in common to waste an opportunity to connect and magnify who we are and lose what might come of a greeting.

and i'm going to sacrifice efficiency to be kind to someone ordinarily out of the way and not wonder about how it will effect my bottom line when i crawl into bed at night and worry about waking up tomorrow for monday morning after a week of vacation.

this was not the vacation i anticipated. not by a longshot. i have more than tackled a to do list and brought the stress levels down. i am a different person for reading and engaging over here. and my hope is that there will be many more like me.

i am so exhausted i can't listen to anyone longer than their first sentence. spinning plates is a learned skill. and they don't all need to spin fast and mighty at the same time all the time. that's made such the difference for me now. the trick is to just keep them spinning and not crashing. and if you add a couple more, it's ok if the two on the end wobble and fuss. in the end, it'll get to the point where i can add even two more. and two more.

also, i hate my writing. it embarasses me when i read it just like i'm often mortified by a photograph or the sound of my own voice on tape or video. yikes! that's not really how i sound is it?

i thought about when i first started working out, trying to jog on the treadmill or up the street. it was also a shame filled endeavor. but someone broke it down for me this past week. and i get it. its an exercise. you do it everyday and eventually you actually enjoy the strength you gain and the sound of your own voice becomes familiar and inviting and something as useful to you as to somebody else who might happen along.

i'm going to draft a letter to a soldier tonight. i've been thinking about it all day. now, i just need to do it.