Monday, June 20, 2011


The day after our emotional and dotted with beautiful love between us anniversary we made tuna with olive oil, capers, anchovy paste, feta and tomatoes in the car while it rained. Then, as we went out at Oak Ledge, along the path right up against the water I noticed feeling tentative about my movements. Over the day I felt clearer about my desire to feel sure. I think it has felt even clearer today as I walked and noticed my knee but also felt like I can do anything I want. I have always loved my ability to move freely, endlessly, rambunctiously. Relaxing over and over again is essential. To thrive, I relax. It is what I command all parts of me to do. This is my true work as a human—Relax!

I got a chiropractic adjustment this morning from Heather Rice. I feel like I am letting in the calm and balancing I have been asking for. Also, Will and I did our second day of oil pulling. Fascinating folk remedy that involves swishing sesame or sunflower oil in my mouth for 15 or 20 minutes. So simple, bizarre and interesting. Like with all the miracle cures, people claim all kinds of awesome shit happens. I like the space it has created for me to think more purely of my well being—just swishing this thick, viscous liquid around in my mouth, relaxing. Truly strange and awesome.
Here in the afternoon, weeded huge burdock and thistles sharp but easily able to lift up and with its single root. I look over the area and see how much more, endless amounts, there is to pull. It must be little by little, in inspired spurts. As I sat hidden in the thistle I heard the neighbors. I sat deeper into my thistle jungle and got back to work. I felt the not wanting to be seen amidst something I don’t think I can complete or understand. It’s an innocent situation, really. I just feel shy. I did think about it. I leaned into the possibility of being easier about it, caring less what anyone thinks about me. As Will painted in the garage and I looked around at how messy and imperfect it all is, I felt the option of not having thought about it at all. So, if someone came up to me and made a comment about the mess or disarray, I wouldn’t even really know what they were talking about. I saw 2 large crows sitting idly, maybe feeling their beaks against the bark, in the black locust—the blossoms at their fullest. The crows must have enjoyed the scent. The brief, beautiful scent.

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