Friday, October 31, 2008

I feel like a drink

I just heard the lyrics "tying witches' boogers into bows" on the CBC radio program "to the point". How could we have lived without this image for this long? Every time I think I've heard it all, feeling all cynical and utterly bored, I am lured by the artists among us who vault our psyches to newer and braver heights. How can we be crying poor these days? I am fantastically rich in self-investment! Long live the weirdest things you could ever think about! Now should I go out to that bonfire tonight or not? Do I go for the should or the feel good? But wait, some of that should does feel good. What's a sweet girl to do?

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Friends make us rich

Did you ever call a friend just to say how much you appreciated them? I was on the receiving end of that phone call today, and the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Answering the phone with a dose of the heavies and hanging up with the light. I got me some gratitude in my pocket...Now I know that aversion and desire are equal challenges, equanimity feels so far away some times, but what a relief to be lifted from the illusion of self-torment. I'll take relief when it's offered any day. Thank you unlikely friend! So how could the day not pick up? Hearing the laughter of young girls making mouldy moss salad for their dolls while little boys dive deeply into the strange and fantastical world of Pokemon...indeed life is rich and ever ripe for the pickin...

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

the women are talking

Just caught a heated exchange on the View, the gals are slinging it across the table. The anger is flying, and our ladies can barely contain it. Baba had to claim the high road to calm the scene down. Let's just look at what's real here. Anger is rampant, and a perfect inroad to the pain that lies lurking beneath. Why are we mad? Injustice? Karma claims it's all fair, even though we can't see the whole picture. Pain pain pain...it's a collective hurting that wants a healing, it's ours for the embracing. We're not our bodies and we're not our wounds, we just think we are. How do you like me now?