No Race Today...

I am impatient, impetuous

I always have been

I rush

I hurry

I worry

There is something slightly frantic about me

I’m always early

Impulsive

Tomorrow… isn’t now

 “Be patient” stings like a reprimand

I know I am racing

It is who I am.

Until….

 I started hearing a calmer, reassuring voice

          There is time

          There will be enough 

          You will be enough

Permission to slow down bestowed…not demanded.

Word

Peace of Pizza

For what ever reason, I am in binge mode.  I open my refrigerator door and the temptations abound.  I have never cared for breakfast, mainly because I don’t care for breakfast food.  Short of  Eggs Benedict or a hash brown ‘tater casserole, I could care less than nothing for the renowned “Most important meal of the day”. 

I always wake dreaming of last nights left-overs, be they cold pizza or a slice of cheese cake, it matters not.  Food should not languish on the middle shelf until it takes on a dull sheen or a furry coat, it should not be forgotten as the fresher move to the front.  It should be consumed either during the night (if it’s loud and unrelenting) or first thing in the morning. 

Why beat myself up all day…whoever  made up the classic American breakfast, must have never had left over pizza.  

Peace.

Twisted Kenny

I don't think this one needs any words.
I'm gonna leave it to ya'll to use your powers of visualization, 

Feel'in better?


Thought so!

Note:  Kenny Rogers in no way, shape or form had any knowledge of this posting, nor did he approve of twisting his lyrics or associating with the likes of Mean Lurlene. 

Editor Wanted

I am guilty of it, scripting, planning, setting a stage, you name it, I've imagined it...perfectly. 

Reality is,  life is filled with monkey wrenches and glitches, egos and temperments.

Rules change, scripts have to be re-written, edits have to be made.

The show must go on. Cut what you have to, save what you can.  Editing is an art.

Be creative.

The Difference

For me… 

Fear feels like anger

Grief feels like silence

Concern feels like hyperactivity

or worse..helplessness

Somedays I can’t put my finger on it

Somedays I am just “different”

Emotion creates a strange amalgam. 

I am so grateful for all my dear friends who understand the change in my voice

and my eyes.

They don't ask me for words....they know better

They know...the difference.  

Love you all...near and far.