Inspired by a friend's long-term journalling project of writing a sentence a day, I starting doing this on July 17, while in the Sierra Nevadas. A month and a half and several adventures later, I am still enjoying the project. I intend to continue writing a sentence a day, and plan to share these writings (as appropriate and comfortable to do so) each month. I enjoy the poetic nature of stringing all of these different sentences together, and how they provide a verbal collage of a life, my life. Enjoy. If you have interest, go ahead and try this project, as well. A sentence a day. Whatever you would like to write. Share, or not. Enjoy.
~ 2014/ 07/ 17 - 2014/ 08/ 25
Watching the river move the moss stuck against the stones, suddenly I notice myself removed from myself, then return again, even more present than before. I’m back at home, in the home where I grew up. The sun flows like a river down over the mountains and cacti, bringing a new day in with bird song. Packing and unpacking stuff perhaps takes up half my life’s activities. I hope that all my work is truly helpful. I’m back at my favorite place in the world: on a rock, in the middle of a stream, with dappling sun and shade, bird song, and a light breeze. Heath is multidimensional, as are people. Weight-sharing, connecting through the center, feeling the plumb-line, listening, giving and receiving... thus is contact improv, a relationship, all of Life. When I overeat, my belly protrudes from my body as if I’m pregnant, or wearing a basketball. I spend a lot of time packing and unpacking, preparing and planning, processing and digesting, reflecting. The wind blows cold awareness into my limbs. Stepping back, all the important little things suddenly look so trivial, compared with the countless stars and giant stones of this grandiose landscape. Walking up the moonlit path feels like walking towards the Temple of the Sky Gods. The pine arms reach across the brightening blue sky towards the neighboring mountains, with golden sunlight pouring down their steep gray scree fields. After eight years, today is a day where old dreams and goals finally come into fruition. Anger turns even the most magical, beautiful landscape a dull, ugly sheen. The rising sun illuminates all the stones that stand like sentinels, saluting the gracefully reaching pines, calling cows and birds, and wind that wraps itself into the deepest reaches of my very being. This morning’s sun reflects last night’s tears and blood. I’ve entered this new world with Opuntia wrightii gloccids in my mouth, hands, feet, and more. Fully moving into a place without fully knowing how long I will stay or what I will do feels familiarly like trusting the Universe, gambling with God, and surrendering to intuition, led by love. Life is filled with tiny details that coalesce together into a massive whole, that may or may not make sense, depending on the viewer’s perspective, and state of mind. With a straight yet flexible spine, my core is strong, and I stand up for myself and my beliefs. I feel exhausted most of the time. To know, to love, and to be completely present with are ideally simultaneous, but oftentimes separate. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m going somewhere right. I want to create something beautiful, useful, and long lasting today, and everyday. Unfulfilled creative potential feels like a growing bomb getting ready to explode within me. I’m about ready to implode, right now. The mosquitoes here are almost worse than in New England. Part of me loves going nonstop, and part of me just feels unrepairably tired. I live my life as art. It’s been a really good morning.
