My son’s birthday is tomorrow. He has completed 29 revolutions around the sun. Time flies by faster and faster. The days gallop by like wild horses. Feral horses. We call something that was once domesticated and is now wild, feral, not wild…
Contemplate that.
I still stand for the Wild-Wild. I still think domestication takes away something great. I suppose that is the potential, the unknown, the Great Mystery. You can call it god, if you remember that means ‘that which is beyond our capacity to put into words or fully comprehend’.
I woke feeling crummy again. It is more rare than common. I ponder how much is psychological and how much is the food I continue to overeat. I had pizza last night, with no cheese, but still wheat crust, tomato paste…things I suspect are not good for me. It’s tricky to navigate this life without damaging myself. My psychology and my physicality seem intertwined. I have been suppressing my feelings again sometimes–out of necessity. It seems prudent.
“Prudence is the ability to govern and discipline oneself by the use of reason. It is classically considered to be a virtue, and in particular one of the four cardinal virtues.” So says the Wikipedia.
Virtues and sins are an interesting topic to me. I think The Wild keeps both, and domestication has neither…that is probably not a true story.
Am I domesticated or am I wild? “Little from column A, Little from column B.”
No one gets out alive.
My perceptions are steeped in fallibility.
I want to be more vibrantly alive though, while I am here.
Less is more.
I do believe this universe is abundant. I do believe that there is unformed energy all around me and that my focus matters…I think it is intreguing that so many people make that a story about god, and frequently through in a lot about Jesus…Christ, that seems so obviously made up. Bajebus. It’s a good story though. Perhaps it serves the function of allowing/encouraging surrender. I do see the value in that.
I ponder what Peter Sage calls the four stages or states of consciousness:
To me. By me. Through me. As me.
I meditate on raising myself. I allow the greatest good to play through me.
Hosting the open mic last night was fun. I think the high of it often leads to a stumbling afterwards. I push my body. Even with no alcohol no smoking no cheese, it still creates a flare, a swelling, a puffing up response. Inflammation…such an interesting aspect of my life. That instinct to protect by making me less functional. WTF.
I decided to start journaling here again. Medium has been a tease like so many other things in life. I need to trust myself more. Trust life more. Stop wanting what I don’t have. Stop holding on to things and ideas that no longer serve me. Let shit go.
It’s a work in progress. It’s a process. I am grateful to be here. I embrace the unknown. The potentials of everything. I am grateful to witness so many humans getting so much of what they want in life. I know it is all temporary, and I have had and still have many good things too.
The wind has simmered down and it’s looking like it will be a sunny day. I should get outside and do some work there before it heats up more. It’s already 70 and not quite 9 yet.
I have three coaches to learn from. My book, The Shift to work on. Money in the bank again. Even though my body hurts, it could be much worse. Giddiup.
~ZGALA
nmgal007 ~Angel Lilly, Performance Poet, Speaker, Songwriter, Singer 