Poetry and musings of a zany Mormon girl who is very proud of her Erda roots.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Wallflower


Try this post on for size. I think it is thought provoking.






One reason I began writing on this here blog thingy was because I began reading the work of others. To me, blogging is a collection of live thought stream. A peak into other people's heads. No boundaries, editors, or content managers except the self-inflicted kind. Keeping tabs on lives lived by strangers is totally expected. In fact, it is encouraged. The ultimate guilty pleasure of a people watcher like myself: Get to know someone without ever meeting and without any obligation to nurture the relationship or send a Christmas card. It's brilliant!


So, here's a little peak into my mind. Totally free from social obligation -- isn't that great? 


 Today I caught myself smiling for no reason.

I was staring out the window of a rushing car enjoying the shades and textures of Fall -- wishing I had a camera and a few excess minutes handy for complete contentment. That's when I realized that I didn't need anything other than what I already had. And that's when I realized that I was smiling.


This hasn't happened in a while.

Optimism is a choice. One that I attempt to make regularly. My nature is to be cynical and damning. With standards raised high, anything that doesn't make the grade gets cut with the passion of split-second decision making. If something captures my attention for more than critically necessary, it gets tossed into my roaring river of a brain. Thoughts, ideas, and dreams are run through a long lazy-river-on-steroids complete with white water rapids.

Round and round the thoughts chase one another in the order in which they originated. A, B, C, D . . . 1, 2, 3, 4 . . . Yes, No, Maybe, but only if. . . Everything must find a place and order but if it cannot be categorized it is doomed to reside in my default thoughts. Those ones are polished in the tumbling rapids as I revisit them whenever my attention is not evoked by outside stimuli. Once the thought is shiny with wear, all rough edges gone with careful consideration and as much outside information as possible, it is either categorized as it should be or retired to a special place for things that are confusing. That is when I admit that I cannot solve everything and some questions do not have answers.

I don't give up easily. It can be very tiring -- particularly when other things ought to take precedence but are pushed aside with a split-second decision.

Including moments of happiness.



That is why it is so important to stop thinking. Just live in a moment rather than try to make sense of it all. 

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