Wednesday, January 10, 2018

I Only Know This


Here's a short list I jotted one night before bed. It was - 2 when I wrote it:

The cashiers
Googling winter depression (see face below)
Rabbi Kushner's quote
Moving the body
Doing one kind thing
My button is bigger than your button? We're so fucked.
Why can't the dog wipe his feet?
The car wash message

Every January I'm surprised by feelings of crazy and crowded.

Then I remember. (Or a family member reminds me) Oh yea, I'm like this every winter.  It's minus 2. The windows are closed. Dark at 5:00 pm. All I want to do is nap and read. Eat Ritz crackers with peanut butter. Make lists. Drink tea. Daydream about the hundreds of bulbs I planted in December. I guess this part could go under Chapter 2: Googling Winter Depression. Stay tuned. 

I'm not sure why, when in stuck-land, we forsake the things that bring us the most joy but the good news is, we return. I love this space. I love doing the podcast. Keep an ear out for a new one @ ( It's +39 F out today. I'm ready to break out my flip flops.

Always, alway, we begin again. 🌀

Chapter 1: The Cashiers

Marie at Price Chopper is seventy years old.  I only know this because she told me.

She said, I love being old. (I asked her to repeat that a couple of times for me)
She said, I'm seventy years old. I don't care what people think of me.
She said, I love my life.
She said, I love my husband.
She said, I have one glass of red wine at dinner - that's all, one glass.

Margaret at Target is sixty years old.
I only know this because she told me.

She said, When I turned sixty, I started watching tv.
She said, And drinking.
She said, I used to read, do crafts, always cleaning.
She said, I'm more relaxed now.
She said, My drive is an hour, that's not great.
She said, But I say, Okay God, let's do this.
She said, I drive with God.


Peace and love to you and yours


xo b