Initially, I feel nervous/afraid. I feel like I am about to sweat, yet I do not. i feel nausea creeping. A feeling of odd “adjustments” that are also nauseating seem to be going on in my face, neck, all over. Sometimes I feel something in my heart, but so far, no.
I feel emotionally now (like only a few minutes since the upper paragraph), like I am slightly more expanded. Like the room is more welcoming. Fearfulness is gone. I feel weighted more in my chair. My palms feel a wee bit moist (smirking at the word choice).
Ok, pausing a moment…4:52. Maybe at 4:30 I dropped these shrooshroos (sorry, I’m just disguising facts with coolness which is not necessary nor cool). Speaking of cool. I fucking LOVED Dolamite. Can you fucking dig it? i cannot believe I have never seen that film before. I could NOT believe it was…it was like it’s been KEPT FROM ME. This is a fucking CLASSIC. Pure. It is pure. Culturally significant.
Ok, 4:55, I feel larger changes. yes, larger is the way to describe. It’s like your …look, they said things like “your consciousness expanding” because that’s exactly what it feels like. You can take a nap on the soft green grass of yourself (if that’s the way it works out for you) see what I’m saying? They use/d those terms because it’s the closest.
However, I am an artist. It may be my duty/ability to describe the experience to those who either want to know what it’s like, or
ahh..4:57 there it is in my heart. Then in my face more. Body adjusting, see? Here comes the calmness. I’m going to take a moment and relax and enjoy it in a comfy seat. I’ll come back. ❤
5pm. The machines, the computer, seem really loud.
(turned it off, unnecesary. creepy. felt lonely and scared. turned it back on. Need my music).
Ok, so once again, too much too much too much has gone on in this beautiful, healing evening. My oldening body is not done. simply a stage we (most of us/some of us?) go through yet through utterly unique (sometimes very very lonely feelings of going throughs on the goings do go). What I’m saying is this: I listened to a lot of totally new-to-me, new to the experience inside evening of (like this), etc. It’s exhausting and I do NOT have the patience to find better, more suitable phrasing. So, thusly so do I say:
I took some pictures. I found a missing earring – rather, it was revealed to me like a joke and a lesson about “all things in due time revealed”.
I am reminded that I shouldn’t bother searching for anything directly. it will be made available when it and I are ready. Everything works like that.
My letter-to-self was positively enchanting. Everyone should do it. My pictures having uploaded yet to dropbox, I guess.
Adam’s mom wants what all moms want for all their children: to have the happiest birthdays. To not feel so guilty. That their dads are stronger than they know and that they are being good sons. The ARE good sons.
That evenings spent with Smoekybeauty on my chest for a few minutes of communal love are very good. My old girl.
The music thing. I got a lot out of the music…my mind opened. I saw beautiful illustrations of my own making. Things unraveled and unfolded without prejudice or hesitation. Felt reunited with old feelings from childhood. Things adults call “hope” but are actually (within children/the lucky adults) just being connected genuinely to everything around you so much and so well that they naturally tie in to the Future.
I’ll update this with pictures once they arrive. (I did).
Oh, something interesting, at the beginning, kept seeing a baby, glowing with health and happy, young adult energy around it. That brought me to such Christmasy stuff/feels/colors/warmth/vitality. Snow and beautiful color. It makes me wonder if Andy, my brother is going to be a father again? Or a grandfather (omfg). I’ll let you know if anything comes of that…
The Christmas stuff was wonnnnnderful. This is what dreamstuff is made for. Memories that haven’t even happened but I know are and shall be beautiful, treasured memories. New stuff. Lots of newness…such a beautiful potential for Winter. Just…
There was an illustration of death being stopped and held by Winter. winter not being about death or nothingness at all (Fall is about Death I suppose, but in a nice way?). But a place where we sculpt our memories into beautiful meaningful stories, or a place to self-reflect on whatever and whoever and whenever we want. Winter is where ALL stories were honed by beautiful firelight. Where songs have always been perfected through love, attention, and repetition met with thoughtful refinement. There is no pressure from Winter. It is for us to sit and be quiet in, for just a few moments of (perhaps) some discomfort until the things just unfurl and, like a wing, stretch out for us. In Winter, there is plenty of space.
Tired. Time for some tea.
Note to self: This is ‘Voice 005’.