
“I’m unwilling, unable, and unenthusiastic…”, until I am. I cannot do things the way others want me to do them. And yet, I try. “I don’t know what this means, but I have to explore….I’ve gotta know, have to know and own what I know….” I’m watching Toni Morrison: The Pieces I Am. I’m thinking about the soft moving edges of the ways I am in Union with Muse, Creator, Life, energy and all the times I am not. Mind blaming others for the long periods of the tumult of the decisions, language, tone, actions of others, that slam the door shut on this contact that was once constant and now, like a dream I once had. Getting back, doesn’t work, isn’t working. How do I start? Comparing when I am willing, able, and enthusiastic to the past and to my imagined or real current expectations and those of others is Killing me. Suffocating weight. Awareness is like snapping on a light. I want to say, staying in the light takes the same ages it took to leave that light. But, I do not want this to be true. I consider that I think I also believe that if only I do this or that, I’ll get the awareness and get to Keep it, in the perfect form of my desire….forever. I’m laughing at my mind, not in derision, but in mirth. I can float, but I cannot surf. Yet. I seem to recall the enchantment of the explore was the ‘goal’ for me. I moved away from that and am mudbathing in outcomes, a grade, enoughness again. That peony does not have to consider these things. It simply IS. I like that.