Sunday, September 30, 2007

Sunday Scribblings #20 - Powerful


3am: 1 hr yoga
4am: 1 hr outdoor circuit training
5am: 1 hr power walk
6 am: 2 hour run
8 am: breakfast and panic
10 am: 1 hour walk and fight with Paul
11am: coffee and jitters
12pm: 1 hour pilates (hiding in the basement)
1pm: 2 hour bike ride
3pm: 2 hours gardening and crying
5pm: 1 hour walk to dinner
6pm: eat and drink
7pm: eat
8pm: eat
10pm:eat
11pm: can't stop eating
12am: fall asleep eating

do the same tomorrow

There was a time when that made me feel powerful.
Better than, stronger than, holy-er than....
But I was manic.
I was anorexic.

When I plummeted into depression, I longed for my super powers back.
Sha-zam! They were gone.
I couldn't keep up.

Now that the seretonin is in check, power is something different.

Now,

power = moderation
power = self-love
power = gratitude
power = honesty
power = authenticity

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Sunday Scribblings #19 - Hello my name is....



En francais, "bonjour, je m'appelle"

....la bicyclette de Jennifer

I am a black hybrid Miele, with grey and red stripes.

Jennifer rides me every day.
I love that she depends on me, that I am her main form of transportation.
Along with my pals, Left and Right Panier Baskets and Pink Metallic Helmet, she relies on
us to bring her and her belongings to their destination safely.

I know Jennifer's riding habits;
her 10-12 km/hr riding speed,
her tendency to anticipate
green lights to get a head start on traffic,
and the way she needs to push my right pedal first to get going - never my left one.

She cares alot about us.
She safely locks us with a Kryptonite U lock,
decorates my handlebars with colourful flowers,
and keeps everything running smoothly with regular check ups at the bike doctor.

Jennifer and I make a statement when we ride.
I have stickers on me that say
"My bike takes me places school never could"
and
"Bikes are traffic, not targets".
In a polite and informative way, Jennifer rings her bell at motorists,
so that she doesn't get doored.
And so that I don't get hurt.
I feel very cared for.

Together, Jennifer, me and my amigos travel to many different places.
Whle she does her business, I can spend time with bike friends, old and new, all over the city of Toronto.

She has lots of bicycle-riding friends, and so I get to meet a lot of different 2-wheelers.
My favourite and most intimate riding companion is her husband Paul's bike.
But he can go a lot faster than me; he doesn't have the extra weight of the panieirs.
Still, we're really close and have an awesome relationship.
We sleep together in the shed at night, and often protect one another by being locked side-by-side around town.

I respect and admire Jennifer for riding.
She does it because it's good for her and for the world my wheels roll through.
Sometimes she's a little stubborn though.
Especially when she tries to ride in the winter when the roads haven't been ploughed.

Jennifer hopes that I don't get into the wrong hands.
She tells me that Toronto is the bike theft capital of the world.

Hopefully, my flowers will be a deterrant.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Sunday Scribblings #18 - Collectors


I've had others try to force collections on me.
Like Royal Doulton china dolls.
I have two "Jennifers" and one bridal doll.
I hate them.
They are far too dainty, far too expensive, and far too impractical.

These days I collect ideas.
I think. And think. And don't stop thinking.
The ideas I'm collecting need to be better organized.
So that they can become permanent, and I don't lose them.
When they vanish from my mind, through my swiss cheese memory,
I can't ingest and absorb them.

These ideas are buuuuzzzzzziiiiinnggg all around me.
An angry swarm of bees.
Thoughts, judgements, opinions, belief, views.
Slow down.
Lentement.
Lento.
Tardus.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Sunday Scribblings #17 - Writing

Writing about writing
is like singing about singing,
thinking about thinking,
talking about talking, or reading about reading.
It's a surgical dissection process.
A meta-analysis.

I would prefer to avoid thinking too much about it.
The words need to come organically... without censorship.
Submissive control results from microscopic examination.
Surrender to what is, without rules and formulas,
creates brain-hand valve opening and an unbstructed writing meridian
So that the wisdom my heart whispers can be revealed.