I spend so much time in front of this cursed machine, and get so little done with it. The machine itself is slow, and I am easily distracted. So, after my weekend of flying as close to the fire as possible without getting burned, I came to the page to try and sort out just what the hell I'm doing, before the whole day is lost. I didn't get into the bookbinding workshop I had applied for, which is fine, because I don't really have the money for it just now, and it will come around again when I do. There are instructional videos online I can watch and learn from just as well, and I'll have more time to focus on my next project. Yes, I applied to a Master's program, and I have every reason to believe I'll be accepted, so I've been fleshing out ideas, drawing graphs, and making lists, as well as sitting in front of the computer, staring at vapidity, thinking 'what was I doing, again?' and so.
Breakfast went well, though I would have preferred if the boy had had some nuts or seeds with his smoothie, and I packed him a good lunch (water, grapes, cheddar cheese and crackers, tomato soup, leftover chicken). I had the rest of the soup for breakfast, and as I'm thinking about it now, I believe I'll have the leftover smoothie in a minute, with a rice cake... I turned on the computer this morning to check the weather; hot and humid, 85 today - definitely a shorts day, I told the boy, as I saw him putting on jeans while I went around closing windows against the coming heat, hoarding my cool air behind glass and sheer fabrics. After the boy got on the bus, I checked in on all my beautiful facebook peeps who make me feel not so alone sometimes, and then did a search on 'how to get motivated to exercise' while wondering why I didn't just get up and exercise - it's not like I don't know how.
The lovely weekend that has just past (Memorial Day), I spent at a place I've been visiting for nigh on 20 years, now, and as I stood in the sun, on that spot, and stretched my arms up over my head, and reached out and over and touched my fingers to the ground in front of my feet and felt the puuuuuulll in the back of my legs without my knees even straight, or my back being flat, without my hips anywhere near where they should be - with the source that sustains me warming and stretching my muscles and my bones on that old wooden deck I thought, "Holy god...my body is tight." A knot, even. One big muscle, all bunched together. The wrong end of dynamic tension. I remembered the young man who gave me the word 'somatics', and the woman I met who does cranio-sacral adjustments. Something must be done...
...which got me thinking, the way I do, about the history of the African continent, and how little I know about it. I thought about the health and wellness of the world's most desperate populations, and how so many of them must be miracles of survival - because stereotypically, Westerners kill themselves with medicines and poor diet and tv and fluoride and all that - I wonder how much healthier the people who live without these things must be, though they face more direct threats to their immediate health most every day. Do they care about gmo's or do they just want food - how does that relate? The choices we get to make...and the ones we don't. It just blows me away. I wanted to know what Africa was like before the slave trade, before the history of an entire continent wasn't written into my textbooks, to see what that continent had that Europeans wanted so badly/feared so much that they attempted to destroy it's people to get, and so I go seeking.
It's moments like these when I dream about my hobbit-hole, agri-tourism, organic farm/craft village that I've built in my imagination, and wish for you all to join me there.