I get obsessed over things.
Books, movies, songs, albums, clothes, decor, recipes…
I’ve never figured out why. I can’t control it, and sometimes things even over lap. These come out of what seems like nowhere. Though I don’t live under a rock. something sparks and fuels me.
Oh and if it’s not weird enough that I get obsessed, I, even in the middle of being obsessed, already know they are not the coolest of things to everyone else. But to me? They can’t get any cooler!
I know from experience that whatever ‘it’ is, or “they” are, it will have to run its course. I will have to listen a million times, make a bunch of Amish Dolls and quilts, read the book five times, try countless versions of the recipe or whatever it takes.
Currently, I’ve been reading the book, Untethered Soul. Often. I’ve read it three times in the last five weeks. Which doesn’t feel like enough. So I keep reading and highlighting. Also, unrelated, I’ve been listening to Andrea Botecheli sing Hallelujah and Prince sing Kiss and Let’s Go Crazy on repeat. Doing yoga 7 days a week…
My system is not absorbing the time change very well. I’m feeling almost flu like in the evenings after feeling like I’m starving, then not hungry at all by dinner time. It’s just one hour of a difference, but yikes. I can’t handle it.
The election energy is also snapping around me like that feeling of static electricity in my hair. Remember touching things after swishing across the carpet in socks. It’s as though my body is bracing for shock. I was never a fan of being zapped.
What I really seem to be obsessed with lately, is influencing my own energy. Staying open. Letting go.
I wonder if my inborn ultra sensitivity is picking up on all of the conflicting energies swirling around today. Or maybe it’s just that I fear collective fear. This uncomfortable anticipation is giving me some excellent practice in letting go.
Meanwhile it’s a beautiful day in New England. Record warmth, bright blue skies and spectacularly colored leaves in every direction. Sunshine sparkling off the water. It’s like a movie set.
My plan for the rest of today is just gentleness. Easing through each hour. Eating some food. Reading my book. Breathing.
Watching, observing, my human self feel and think and enjoy a croissant and a too late in the day cup of coffee from a fancy French bakery.
Which feels like seven year old me on a solo trip to Montreal visiting my godmother. Sitting inside her neighbors freezer, with her neighbor’s daughter eating ice cream out of ice cream store size containers. (there were three. THREE.) My new friend didn’t say a thing when she handed me a spoon and I followed as she opened the lid and climbed inside. The freezer. No grownups anywhere to be seen. As much ice cream as we could scoop into our mouths on that hot summer afternoon. Three flavors. Three! We were back outside playing before anyone noticed.
My whipped cream filled croissant, with toasted almonds and generous dusting of powdered sugar, feels decadent and ompulant and in its own way forbidden, or at least on the sly, beside a flirting-with-the-wrong-amount-of-caffeine-at-the-wrong-time-of-day-coffee. This made up a perfectly enjoyable way to spend some of my afternoon.
Open and joyful. Listening to Prince, taking in the colors of fall reflecting with the sun over the water. Breathing in and out…
Peace Kit 