What is that that calms me down?
It’s my own two feet, you see.
Why should I not make a sound?
You’re not good enough for me.
My schedules and my plannings
are the way I run my head.
But the world around me turns, somehow,
while I put butter on my bread.
The rhymes begin to calm me;
the clouds begin to part.
There’s still this awful yearning
that’s tugging from my heart.
But still I walk on down the road
not knowing where it leads
Without a sense of final prize,
just peace amongst the breeze.
And if I dream while I’m awake
Then hold me in the door.
I’ll tell myself the truth, you see,
For I am no false hope.
The honesty that longing brings
is quite enough to cope.
Someday will happen.
Someday will come.
Just like the day of morrow–
The trees truly are beautiful
and breathe away my sorrow.
So in conclusion, walking
is instant therapy.
Money isn’t heaven
and heaven is a tree.
When the going gets tough, you power through. When the going gets rough, well, then it’s interesting again.
More than anything I feel this trip was about soul searching. I am saying “was” as if it’s already over; and it hasn’t even started yet.
I’ve been in Minneapolis for approximately thirty hours and have already met some wonderful people and am really looking forward to my job. Still, I find that my heart weighs heavy and my soul is tired. Apparently, when you fly, your body moves so fast that your soul cannot keep up. If that is the case, then I must be flying without knowing it.
There is no perfection. There is only illusion versus what is tangible, what is real, what is present. As I write this I work hard to focus on the chocolate brown of the doors, the tapestries hung around me, and the smell of the old wood. I like these things. These things are real, and they make me smile.
Happiness doesn’t have to be complicated. Happiness isn’t a scheme, a plan, an advertisement, or a destination. Happiness is a state of being, just like sadness or anger, but the difference is, we don’t strive to be bitter or angry or sad. We work towards happiness, because we can get the most accomplished and be the most pleasant when we are happy. Because happiness is, and should be, natural. Happiness should be the neutral. Happiness is enough.
Kind, giving, friendly souls. The world can never have enough.
Quinoa. The pseudo grain that is not a grain, but a goosefoot. I am also grateful for the word “goosefoot.”
Incidentally, goosefeet work wonders with sauteed vegetables and a sauce of tahini/sunflower butter, lemon juice, serrano chiles, soy sauce, and garlic.
Impeccable Public Transportation.
Rabbits. Not an animal that boasts a lot of thought, at least to me, especially since the only times I’ve seen them in the south is on a plate with potatoes, though they probably exist in small numbers a few yards away from a rifle or two (I don’t hunt).
Tonight, on my first walk around the city, I saw: one vegetable garden, two rabbits dining on a luscious front lawn, and three stilt walking fire dancers.
Yes, I said stilt walking fire dancers. Yet somehow the fact that this family of hares stared me square in the face without a second thought astounded me more.
Trees. Like this one.
Ten points if you can tell me what it is.
Oh my, Blogger, you make me blush! After all we’ve barely been introduced, and already you’re asking me to go writing with you. What would your mother say?
I admit that, from time to time, I may have stumbled upon your sight, eyes wide and fingers poised at the down arrow, ogling all your pretty words and pictures, but never, never would I have thought myself lucky enough to have a date with you. And whenever I want! No sitting wistfully by the phone waiting for you to call–I just log on and there you are, ready for me to have my way with you.
A girl could get used to this.