Today I created a “praise file.”

I don’t know who told me this idea, but I love it. I think it is such a wonderful way to keep perspective when things are rough.

Works like this: Read more…

Therapy has revealed that I suppress my emotions, and that I should learn how to creatively express my anger.

So I “creatively took” this picture:

Trying out a new theme — any opinions?

Who Knew Such Tiny Needles Could Create Such Massive Electrical Storms?

When we align with Truth, objectivity and subjectivity become one.

Yes, I’m aware that it’s a Friday night. Such is life at 29.

TIME IS FLYING

so post is short.

Tea. Book. Yoga. Work from home. Surprise lunch and bouquet of Iris’ (Thanks Elizabeth!) Lake-walk. Frisbee in the park. Good friends. Good talks. Birthday wishes from many. Home-cooked dinner. Speed Levitch documentary. Meditation. Writing. More reading. Early bed.

Wow. And on I go living into another year… how lucky.

“I am cruising currently right now (::giggles to self::). I am cruising because I have dedicated myself to all that is creative and destructive in my life right now and I’m equally in love with every aspect of my life and the all ingredients that have caused me turmoil and all the ingredients that have caused me glory. I am the living whispered warning in the Roman General’s ear: ‘glory is fleeting.’ And in that verb, that active verb ‘fleeting’ –there I live, there I reside in this moment. I have dedicated myself to the idiom “I don’t know” and am in love with the frantic chaos of this limitless universe.”

-Timothy “Speed” Levitch

20+mile bike-ride. Burger. Beer. Hour massage. Cup of tea.

At the end of 28 (oops! 29) years, I am SO ready for bed.

True happiness is not wanting anything.

Keep it Up!

My life is perfect.

–imperfections included, this little ball of blossoms tick-ticking away in little floats and little blossoms from the sweetest little trees of Spring are nothing more than my same little seconds floating away; blossoms tick-ticked off, and blossoms gone.

My life is so, so perfect.

*     *     *

An over-flowing bowl of fresh veggies, avocado and spinach bolani bought from the farmers market. A half-full bottle of Black Toad dark ale to go with it. Iron & Wine playing in the background. Wearing my favorite jammies in all the world: yellow “wish” sweats, and of course I.’s flannel. It’s 8:30pm.

Love. In. my. Heart.

What an amazing, simple thing just caring for someone is. To care about someone; To know someone cares about you.

Satisfying work! A challenging, forgiving, creative, and flexible job. Great coworkers. Mostly self-sufficient now, lunch with my manager, lunch with the VP of Marketing – possibilities await.

A new book to read. Tooth-deep in Stendal’s The Red and the Black – yum.

My iPhone finally synced with my work calendar – the joy! The horror! The joy! The horror!

A man. Walking home. With bag and bottle. I watch.

Words, here, at my disposal: Toothpick verbs and fat slobbery bricks of noun. A big, open lake, winking lights. And a birthday – another testament to not being yet dead! – is fastly approaching, and with it the knowledge — the cold hard fact — that with every passing year of my life, I love life more as it passes.

*     *     *

I cannot be sure I’m not in love with my ex-boyfriend. In fact, I’m certain I am, but it doesn’t matter, does it? He is gone. Only love remains.

My cat is dead. My brother is dead. My best friend is dead. My grandmother is dead. My grandfather is dead. My friend is dead. 29 years’ worth of  old selves – all dead. Everyone I know is getting older; Everyone I know is inching closer to death.

My beautiful bouquet has wilted. My freewrites go unwritten. My one-woman-show goes un-performed.

I have people at my back who believe in me. I, miraculously, believe.

*     *     *

I have So Much. I have Sunshine. I have Home. I have Life — freshly born, freshly served –every, fucking, second. I have Death, arching around my memory, curving around every living hour, and I am grateful for it.

I wake, and I am grateful.

Who do I thank for all this perfection? Who? Who do I throw myself before, en-knee, promising absolute devotion? Who do I honor? Before what God do I bow: humble, naked, pure, worshiping, grateful, grateful, grateful?!

I don’t have an answer, and so, to every person I meet, to every person I pass by, to every person that is: I will imagine it’s you.

…post

Hike. Beautiful. Art. Bridge. Family. Love. Celebration. Sing. Children. Rest. Gentle with self. Sunshine. Early bed:

(Happy 50th, Don.)

My cat died and I am sad.

I have a new friend: Esme

[Big ups to I.G. for the name]

Esme looks at herself in the mirror

“Hi Shannon:

We are pleased to offer you a spot in our level I troupe. Training starts on next Thursday – March 11th.”

Today I auditioned for an improv troupe training!

There is nothing more common than unhappy people. Do the world a favor and ruthlessly, relentlessly, uncompromisingly run after what makes you happy –and never turn around to look back.