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A Month of No Shoes

A month of not wearing shoes is pure happiness. It started out rather accidentally. Several days into July I realized, "I haven't worn shoes this month. I wonder, could I make it the rest of the month?" Because I wasn't about to put myself through any pain for some whim of pride, I kept a pair of flip-flops in my purse. Eventually, I gave in to pride and threw the flip-flops in the back of my car. One of my clients asked me, "But don't you ever step on painful stuff?" Hesitating, wanting to only share how grand it had been, I finally said, "Yeah. A lot. There is a lot of pain. But maybe that is why I'm able to better appreciate all the other beautiful textures of Earth." Yes. There's been pain... so what? A friend and I were talking about how love for adventure often conflicts with fear of people. I said, "Yeah, I guess most people think people are scary and hurt others. Guess what? People are scary and
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Quarter of a Century

Well. Folks. I've hit a quarter of a century. And it feels quite pleasant.  Seriously. I don't remember ever feeling this happy around my birthday since... I was twelve? That's the last happy birthday I remember at least 🀣 I didn't even cry this year. Ah. You know how great that feeling is, to not even want to cry?  πŸ’›πŸ’šπŸ’›πŸ’š I went hiking (ahem sauntering) with some dear friends. I didn't tell them it was my birthday. For some reason it gave me a kick to just silently, alone enjoy this mile-marker.  After a beautiful day, we went to get some food. Because of some random joke, a friend asked, "Did you recently have a birthday? Or what." "Well. Technically today is." I had a car full of packages (Amazon orders mostly) that I hadn't had time to open all week. So my friends jokingly snatched them, then handed them back. "Happy birthday!"  Then we went dancing. I've never enjoyed dancing so very much. I was v

Imagining Possible Perceptions

I run a small cleaning business. I love it. I take pride in my work and would believe that there is no one alive who can clean quite as well as I do, nor do it half as artistically (I feel there is great art in my methodology). I adore most of my clients, and the ones who I don't like all that much I still find fascinating story fodder.  And so, bad reviews wound my pride. Unhappy clients make me cry. And really mean clients . . . ah, but then it really isn't those specific clients that make me feel awful, but all the things going on in life besides, and somehow this outward thing is what allows me to break.  It's never the work that we truly hate or love, after all. It's everything else.  I'm not sure what was going on that day, but my spirit was already in a frazzled state. One moment I was laughing, confidently entertaining a bunch of people. The next moment I was looking for some small corner to hide away in for just a few moments, to breathe, to close m

Four Pieces Of Luck

I was blessed with a week in which I had nothing demanding my energy.  So I mostly slept. I fell asleep in the crowds of family and stranger a like. If there was a bench or a couch or a piece of ground, I laid down. And when I awoke, life said, "I have something for you." My family and I went to visit a family we'd never met before. I did my best to stay awake and visit for a little while. The children took us on a tour of their woods in the dark. I wore flip-flops and scratched my feet and legs. But grogginess kept me from feeling it all that much. A young boy said, "There's a deep ditch here. Let me help you." He offered a strong hand and I felt rejuvenated by his act of kindness. We saw fireflies. I laughed. And then I slept. The next day, as everyone was busy chatting, and I was once more too exhausted to stand, I fell to my knees amidst a bed of clover. "I've never found a four-leaf clover," I thought to myself. "But now I

A Guitar Pick Substitute

 One of those days where I decided to just be wonky and record it. Posting here because too lazy to create in-depth content. 

How To Smile When Stress Slaps You In The Face

FIRST, TO LAUGH. Loudly, open-mouthed, so you can taste and feel the tears better. Life is often like all the flowers, beautiful with a variety of colors and scents (half of them smelling unpleasant, true enough, but at least they look nice). And sometimes, life is simply just like the blooms of a flower you think will open... and then they die. So much for life being like a flower.  You’ll be missed, my unopened flowers πŸ’€  Or maybe I’ll go find some better flowers, that actually open, look pretty, and smell nice. 🧑 Maybe I never needed those false blooms. AND THEN TO CRY  Because tears always follow laughter, right?  Ah, but not always. Sometimes you merely want to cry.  Instead.  Instead. You must become  THE SMILING ROBOT.  You must take your heart out for a moment, staring at it, wonder why it's so actively trying to get you to stay still or run away when duty calls you toward something most horrible.  Toward the children who need you, even as they say they'd like

Why Domesticated Chickens Should Be Exiled

There's a common chicken fetish that needs addressing. But first, why your chickens don't deserve to have sweaters knitted for them:  Chickens are the farmyard cockroach  They are violent, not cute. One of my earliest memories is of being attacked by a vicious rooster. Did you know that they were first bred for fighting before eating according to Wikipedia?  They don't even taste that good (naturally grown) Commercially grown chicken tastes alright, but who knows what is making it that way They destroy gardens They terrorize flowers Sure, they make good compost. But do you want your compost spread everywhere on your farm?   A good mother hen is a rarity  They don't take care of ticks and snakes near as well as guineas The stench of butchered chickens lasts for days after multiple baths. One does not easily eat a chicken after having slaughtered it, whereas other animals are less gross and easier to stomach  Eggs are good. But chickens aren't the only bir