I look up at the night sky and notice so many puffy white clouds. Phone in my hand, dressed in my favorite dark blue silk kimono with a belt from a different silk kimono, black lounge pants from Walmart – thanks to the Walmart card I received during my cancer treatment through the red rose organization. I’m extremely grateful that I was able to find so many resources.
But I digress.
(Incoming: I just realized something about my boyfriends in another dimension lol. I feel I might be laughing alone about that revelation but when you realize who I really am, laughing is among the best of my flaws. 😉 Lol.)
(What the duck is she talking about? Crones some critic.)
Hey may I declare that this is the novel – the novelists novel ark where all fragments go to be reborn and resituated in their new soul wholes, I felt like calling them.
The novel to end all of my novels which is perhaps the end of the story – which is where some say we should begin (at the end of the story) as writers or novelists.
Frankly I think it applies to all communications – what’s the end, the end goal? The desired outcome or experience. I feel like outcome is a bit more goal oriented while experience is a journey. Meh.
Anyway – in my silky blue kimono with unmatching blue belt and black lounge pants, with my phone in hands, I look up at the sky and try to focus. My head does this wah wah feeling that is accompanied by a squeezing sensation all over my scalp.
I lean back farther because backbends, and look at the sky from a very backwards angle. My legs pulse and my headache is joined with nausea.
I pull myself forward, wincing. Do I ever learn? But to my later delight, my new body creates the sensation of gratitude and I hiss out the stupid pain and nausea.
It’s such an odd experience feeling so weak but hardly ever falling. It’s surreal. I think when I started learning to relax into my pain, I had access to so much energy. Dragon 🐉 reborn.
And the gratitude is just another layer of magic on top of that.
Gratitude soothes that burning sensation that I can only describe as an inside sunburn. It’s like, this is a healing love balm for you.
Then I roll with the gratitude waves and there’s a form of defiance with it, that I love so much. Perfect surrender to the essence of gratitude which is our nature. How delightful that is. Take that, pain and weakness.
Gratitude is the balm.
Did anyone say that besides me? Supposedly there’s nothing new under the sun.
But what about under the moon?
PS: I was so inspired to learn in literature class about James Joyce and especially Ulysses which I’m not sure I ever finished. But I loved the concept of stream of consciousness writing. Virginia Woolf also used stream of consciousness style narrative for her works and I really enjoyed her writing.
I think it’s a great way to work things out as well. I have so much of that writing – I’m working on inventorying it.