How to I love thee? Let me count the ways I love you like the flower loves the sun’s bright rays I love you with my very soul and I’ll love you all my days between my heart and yours many words lose their way Just how many are there I have often wondered I may not know the total but, it’s more than a hundred
Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt is “link.” Use it as a noun or a verb; use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
I’ve been distracted lately. Overwhelmed is more like it. If you want to witness some definitive examples of whacked out human behavior, try working in a recreational venue, in a tourist town, in the midst of a pandemic. The lock down has been lifted, people are pouring in with no visible concern for safety precautions, like it’s all over. Meanwhile the exposure and death rates continue to rise. Laughter is forced, tempers are short, and common courtesy has been lost in the frenetic scramble to have “fun.” Combine this with hotter than normal weather, several damaging hail storms and this normally gentle land is a tinder box of dry prairie grass just waiting for a spark.
With so many of the outer planets in retrograde, it’s really a crazy time for emotionally driven individuals and HSP’s such as myself. The link between anger, aggression, general weirdness and the pandemic and retrogrades I’m sure is strong but what the answer is eludes me. So for now I’ll be staying in as much as possible while concentrating on emotional detox and healing, shielding and grounding. If I can’t break the link, perhaps I can loosen the chain.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “practice/practise.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
One of the blessings to come out of this “lockdown/quarantine/social distancing” has been the evolution of my spiritual practice. Lacking personal interaction, I seem to be more and more seeking solace in spirit.
My dad once said “there’s no such thing as an atheist during an earthquake.” He said it during a 6.5 quake that shook the Imperial Valley back in the late 60’s. It stuck with me.
My spiritual practice is a hodgepodge which I won’t get into here but it’s taken on new breadth and scope in the past couple of months. I have finally found my meditation mojo and the quieting of the mind is an awesome thing, even when it’s only 10 minutes.
I once attended a Paul McCartney concert. When he played “Let It Be” 100,000 lighters clicked and the utter silence from the crowd was deafening. There was nothing but the stage, the song, and, perhaps, the voice of God.
“I do not fear a man who has practiced 10,000 kicks. I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.”
Let It Be ~The Beatles
Til next time ~Keep your face covered and your heart full ~JPP
From Linda: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “beside you.” Write about whatever is beside you when you read this prompt. Not when you sit down to write, but whatever is beside you right now. Take note of it if you think you might forget. Enjoy!
What Day Is It Anyway? Coping with Covid day 9
The quarantine continues, our governor has asked for more business closures. We’re holding up OK here although we’ve got “new” campers in the park who have been asked to self quarantine for 14 days, don’t know how compliant they’re being but, hey we’ll see.
Linda has asked us to write about what’s “beside you” when you read this prompt. For me, it is my ever present coffee/tea cup directly to my left hand; my window open to my right letting in some sunshine. That window becomes more and more important to me the longer I’m “inside.” We still get out a bit for walks very early in the morning before everybody invades our little spot of solitude but have been curtailing those a bit due to my continuing cough.
Outside my window the wind blows, robins squabble over tasty worms, bunnies sample tender green shoots of grass, trees sway, their branches dancing in the Spring winds dotting the ground with pine cones oblivious to the worries of humans
The April Fools — Burt Bacharach, Dionne Warwick vocals
My thoughts run wild, like wolves bereft of the leader of the pack. Unruly and undisciplined they leap and run uselessly without purpose.
I must step in and take control lead the unruly bunch where I want then to go. The breeze catches at my fur as I lift my muzzle to sniff the air. There, the scent of our quarry. Too long has my imagination been starved for lack of a good hunt but now here it is. Carried on the wind as I call in my pack of wild thoughts with a snap and a howl.
Quietly but faster than the speed of wind, we stalk silently, our prey is on the run. Hah! There cornered against a tree, the illusive Beast of Inspiration. My unruly pack now disciplined and precise cautiously move in. We pounce, my pack and I. Devouring the Inspiration’s ideas and schemes. Thoughts become plans, vagaries become twists, goals become purpose, daydreams become characters. Yes, my pack of unruly thoughts feed and feed upon the Inspiration until finally they are sated. And the story begins to take form.
“The night was cold and dreary as a sliver of crescent moon peeked out from behind a cloud. Her cloak damp with the mists of Erthean forest, eyes of céladon green scanned the horizon.”
For Linda’s JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness SaturdayYour prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “movie title.” Take the title of the last movie you watched (just the title, not the premise of the movie), and base your post on that title.Have fun!
Last movie I watched, hmmm Spiderman Far From Home (dvd)
Star was alone on the top of the rise. They had been traveling for days through the bleak sandstone of the Enchanted Wasteland. The first few days were spent wading through endless sand dunes. Star and her company had trudged the dunes, scarves tied so tightly around their faces they could barely breath. Even that did not prevented the constant shifting, blowing sand from working it’s way into their eyes, ears, mouths and lungs. The dunes had given way to rocky hardpack, the sun beat brutally against the skulls of Monster, Witch, Human and beasts alike. As she topped the rise, hoping to see some glimpse of green in this Goddess forsaken land, she saw … waves. Waves of colored sand, fossilized dunes of varied colors that stretched for as far as the eye could see.Continue reading “JusJoJan and SoCS – Movie Title theme”→
Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “the first 3 words of the first full sentence.” Okay, follow me here. This is what I want you to do: 1. Grab the closest book to you when you sit down to write your post. 2. Open it to a random page. 3. Locate the first complete sentence on that page. 4. Use the first three words of that sentence to start your post, then take it from there–write whatever comes to mind. That’s it! Have fun!
Page 130 – Moontide – “A gust of wind caught it as she got her sword clear and threw it over his head.”
A Gust of Wind
A gust of wind blew through Star’s hair. As always, her mind went blank even as her body reacted. She acted as she had been trained, dancing with effortless grace wielding a slender curved sword in one hand, dagger in the other.Continue reading “JusJoJan – SoCS — A Gust of Wind”→
Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “ow.” Find a word that contains “ow” or use it as a word in your post. Have fun!
We give them life we watch them grow we see them learn but even so we cannot help but wonder what future lies ahead like tracks on new-fallen snow we savor ever step watching the way they go ’til one day we discover the child we reared is grown busy now with jobs and life and children of their own
For Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday – our fitting final prompt for 2019 is “year.” Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “year.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
It was a year both terrible and glorious filled with tragedy and triumph a year of great loss and equally great victory and in between, it was filled with the very core of spirituality those stormy Mondays and rainy Saturdays flowers, weeds, good soup and tea and all the mundane and glorious details of this epic fantasy we call life