I tell people the walk was recommended by my therapist, and there is that, but I really walk to get a preview of what the day will be like for the Genome. The walk is quick but it's mindful.
I enjoy greeting the people that I see out and about in the early morning. They're people with purpose and I wonder what it would be like to be a purposeful person again. I struggle to find purpose but no matter how hard I try, it seems that I spend my days in Heaven's waiting room.
I enjoy greeting the people that I see out and about in the early morning. They're people with purpose and I wonder what it would be like to be a purposeful person again. I struggle to find purpose but no matter how hard I try, it seems that I spend my days in Heaven's waiting room.
Time and Place. That's the stuff I see as important. I'd like to think that what I do is important but, there again, it seems the universe has its own agenda. I'm expected to do something, almost anything I suppose, and that seems to be enough. More than enough really. Doing anything seems to be everything.
I don't expect you to agree. I'm not a fool. Or rather, I may be a fool, but... oh, I don't know. Let's not get derailed by existential philosophy.
I don't expect you to agree. I'm not a fool. Or rather, I may be a fool, but... oh, I don't know. Let's not get derailed by existential philosophy.
I know most people live with the idea that life has meaning and that they have a purpose. I'm happy for them. I admire them.
I watch a favorite barista from Ethiopia who makes the little faces and hearts and fern leaves in the lattes I drink in Native Grounds and I wonder if it would be possible for someone without purpose in their life to do that.
I watch a favorite barista from Ethiopia who makes the little faces and hearts and fern leaves in the lattes I drink in Native Grounds and I wonder if it would be possible for someone without purpose in their life to do that.
Even though I don't know what I'm doing, it feels somehow, and this is the salient point, that I have been chosen for the role. I have been chosen by the Enforcers to blunder through life hoping that something meaningful will happen.
This morning, pacing the south side mindfully and feeling the anger--not to mention the pain in the upper back--I began doing a few qigong wudangs. Swimming Dragon, was the first, followed by Parting the Clouds and then finishing with Embracing Heaven and Earth.
I was near a storm drain, and that mundane piece of municipal infrastructure became a metaphor for the neural networks in the shadowy region of my brain that support my depression.
This morning, pacing the south side mindfully and feeling the anger--not to mention the pain in the upper back--I began doing a few qigong wudangs. Swimming Dragon, was the first, followed by Parting the Clouds and then finishing with Embracing Heaven and Earth.
I was near a storm drain, and that mundane piece of municipal infrastructure became a metaphor for the neural networks in the shadowy region of my brain that support my depression.
My qigong moves became fierce--my way of shouting down the storm drain of the mind, "I'm chosen! So don't mess with me, Amy!"
Amy, of course, is that little region of gray cells... No! Sorry, you know all about Princess Amy by now.
When my attention returned to the here and now, I realized that about a dozen people were moving around me doing whatever they were doing at this hour. Upper-dressed young women going to work at Nordstrom's; corporate ID-tag bearers heading to Panera's for coffee and bagels; cargo pant-ed leaf blowers. All looking at me.
"Had to be done," I said.
They all nodded and continued on their way because they all knew what it was like to be messed with. And they instinctively knew that I was yelling in the right direction. Down the storm drain.
When my attention returned to the here and now, I realized that about a dozen people were moving around me doing whatever they were doing at this hour. Upper-dressed young women going to work at Nordstrom's; corporate ID-tag bearers heading to Panera's for coffee and bagels; cargo pant-ed leaf blowers. All looking at me.
"Had to be done," I said.
They all nodded and continued on their way because they all knew what it was like to be messed with. And they instinctively knew that I was yelling in the right direction. Down the storm drain.