Sunny Morning Ramblings (stream of consciousness flow)

Today is the day!  I’m back!  I had a delicious slumber all through the night and into the morning.  I am still in bed.  Too comfy to be anyplace else.  I have been cruising my dating site.  My compulsion has died down, but it’s fun to look every now and then.  So weird shopping for humans!  I had a few messages this morning from a few that don’t seem crazy, so that is a nice change.  Ha ha!  The pool, it seems, is very shallow.  It is all a learning experience, “nonetheless.  I really love the ones that are so revealing of their biases, revealing their true colors (or craziness) right up front.  They allow me to not waste my time.  :  )

I was asleep this morning and seemed to hear snoring.  Was it me?  Was it the wind?  I have never had that experience before.  When I woke up I was so refreshed, still very relaxed, feeling that familiar feeling of my writing frame of mind, and body.  Ah yes, I know this feeling.  Delightful.  The blue sky is here with me.  I’m gazing up at the white clouds out my floor to ceiling window, on this beautiful fall morning.  And it’s Sunday.  What could be better?  I feel blessed.             Sitting on the windows ledge I see my water glass, a short beautiful clear tumbler with diamond shaped etchings.  I see the tiny bubbles in the water.  I see my tea cup, white with a top boarder of apples on a leafy branch.  It holds the health of Jasmine tea.  Maybe I like the idea of tea and all it stands for even more than the tea.  It makes me think of the tea room in Boulder, or the one in Kirksville that I visited with my dad when I was a girl of about 10.  I remember it was down below, on a lower level.  I remember tea and nice baked goods, like scones.  And then again, I don’t know if this is how it really was, or my altered version of it.  As time passes, I think we fill in the blanks.  I imagine there is a fine line between reality and the imagination.  Who’s to say what is really real?  We all have own particular perceptions. I guess if there is a consensus, then that is pretty reliable.  Right?  Even a group consensus is very much framed by culture and the society one lives in.                                     I skipped meditation this morning in favor of staying here sitting atop my green homemade afigan and amazing brown fleece blanket.  The two that kept me snuggly warm throughout the night.  It’s nice to sleep wrapped in another’s arms, bodies snuggled together.  Last night it felt just as delightful to be wrapped in my special blankets.                                                   I think of solo bike rides across town stopping atop a hill with a view of trees and the highway, feeling as though I am in a different city altogether.  Wondering, Have I been here before?  Feeling so alive and content.                                                                                               I read the new guy my poetry on the phone the other night.  He enjoyed it.  I had wanted him to be only one thing, one way.  The way we create people in our minds, molding them into what we would like.  Early perceptions allow us to believe people are more defined, not so multifaceted.  Time reveals the nuances.  I am in love.  Not with him, but with the feeling of fall.  It is in my heart and brings tear to my eyes.  My face contorting.  I want to learn how to cry without making this face.  It has been a litttle over a year now since I started this blog….learningtocry.wordpress.com.  So much has happened.  So much I have made happen.  So much life unfolding.  My sould unfolding.  My heart opening, loving, trusting, and bleeding.  Life!  Glorious goddamn life!  I wipe the tears as they pool around my eyes.  Feel the mucous in my nose.  I am so familiar with this physiological process.  I need to go get my pink shirt.  The one I use as a handkerchief ( I hate that word, but like hankie even less).  I really dislike the feeling of snot in my nose and can’t understand people who don’t blow their noses or those who suck it back up in and down their throat.  Not pleasant topics.  But there is a lot of unpleasantry in life.                       I just thought about Dino, the sexy young Jewish-looking dancer who invited me to his party last night.  So sweet.  He said, “Of course I would see you here.” as we crossed paths at yet another dance venue.  I didn’t go to the party, but was flattered by the invitation.  And then there was Skully.  He is so sweet and gives big heartfelt hugs.  The kind I love.  The kind of people I love.                 I danced on the street corner later.   Pure heaven.  My favorite fellas Mike and Lionelle playing their usual gig ~ 3:00 in the afternoon until 3:00 in the morning every Saturday.  Broadway and 9th.  Now that’s life!  I’m feeling life right now as the tears continue to come, rolling down the rigth side of my face.  Blowing my nose into the soft organic material.  Hearing my stomach rumble, requesting food, just as the kitties did this a.m. As I tried to hold onto every ounce of the delicious slumber I was experiencing, they were scratching on my door wanting their breakfast.                         The liquid snot rolls down my face and over my lips.  The feeling not much different than the sensation of the tears on my cheek.  I wipe it away with my shirt.   I wonder why we keep cutting down trees to wipe our butts, our noses.  I use a washcloth when I use the bathroom.  Just rinse, and reuse, over and over.  It’s pink too.  Not intentional, just turned out that way.  I’m usually not much one for pink, for the most part.  I do have a jacket…but I don’t wipe anything on it.          :  )  The wash cloth came from my grandmas, when we had to sort through over 50 years of accumulated items.  I didn’t take much.  A few wash clothes, a few towels, a parrasol with Asian designs.  I especially liked the dragon design.   My son used to be embarrassed when we would walk in the summer and I would carry the parasol to shade myself from the sun.  I don’t blame him for thinking I was weird.  My grandma is still alive.  My said son and I went and visited her the other day in the nursing home in a little town in Illinois.  She is 94 and doing quite well.  She looks great and was elated to see us.  She held onto me the whole time we were there.  She said, “I’m very sad about Billie Kay.”  She died on August 15th.  I know I haven’t really grieved.  I guess it will come in time.  I still have papers with her obit that I need to mail to people.  People being, my brother, and my mom’s husband.  My sister said she didn’t want one.  I wrote the obit and put a picture in with it.  I feel very good about how it turned out.  I have realized since her death that I judged her.  I don’t think I ever knew her soul.  I don’t think she wanted to show it.  I’m learning to show mine.  And I love it!  I’ve stopped worrying people will think I’m weird.  Stopped worrryng what they may think all together.  Stopped imagining I am a mind reader.               I’m getting really hungry now.  I used to not be able to do this.  Not eat.  My body was hypoglycemic.  I reprogrammed it when I “prescribed” a cancer fighting diet for my mom.  Billie Kay.  I went on the diet as well.  It got rid of the hypoglycemic responses in my body.  I just wanted to support her.  Kind of like when someone loses their hair due to chemo, and a friend, or family member, shaves their head.  Maybe you’ve never heard of people doing that.  But it happens.  She din’t really follow the diet.  Yeah there were a few more fresh vegetables in the frig, maybe a little less meat on the dinner plate.  Food is a major addiction for many people.  She was not interested in shaking it.  The sugar, flour, meat, and dairy gave her too much short term pleasure.  She was not willing to give it up, even if that meant potentially increasing her chances of survival.  Or prolonging her life.   She did juice sometimes and take lots of supplements.                        I put my feet up on the wall to the left of the ledge.  Legs crossed and had a brief thought of my new friend.  We are supposed to go on a hike today.   I think it may very well be our last get together.  I hope he is feeling the same way.  Our personalities are not compatible enough.  Although there are definitely things that click for us.  But others are outweighing those as time goes on and new sides are revealed.               The sun warms my face and I briefly feel his physical presence.  His touch upon my cheek.  That part I will definitely miss.  But there will be another.  I am starting to get used to how this works.  After 23 years of marriage it’s taking awhile to grasp this dating thing.  Not staying  with the same person, but instead meeting many new people.  Still not sure that I like this model.  But I am learning a lot, and I do love that.  I am growing with each new relationship experience.  So, it’s good.  My current interest is sweet in many ways.  And I found him on the dating site!             I got up, used the bathroom.  Looked at my phone, and realized that he may not even contact me today.  Who knows?  I’ll go on that hike by myself and love it.  I traded my blue elephant print headband for my funky orange, red and blue one, and started thinking about how Mike, the street corner musician, hasn’t e-mailed me back yet.  Patience, without making up stories, is something I am working on.  I  have a crush on Mike, the street corner musician.  I thought it was reciprocal, but then he backed off so I’m not sure what he thinks.  He is always sincerely happy to see me, and likes my touch when we hug upon reacquaintance.  He almost melted one night as I gave him a little massage after he said his shoulders hurt.   We texted later and he said it was amazing.  I’m so curious about people.  It seems there’s no figuring them out.  I’m trying to learn to just let it be.  My new friend says I try to read to much into everything.  I say he is judgmental.  And what did he mean by that anyway!  Ha ha!            I need to get on with my morning.  Get food, get dressed, get ready for a hike, possibly companionship.  Yet the alternative is tempting….send the post off into cyberspace, put the computer down, and continue to lie on my pallet on the floor squinting up into the sunny blue sky and listening to the wind howl.

I love you!

Namaste!

Copyright Suzanne Norton 2015

About Suzanne

I write poetry, flash fiction, quotes and personal essays. Words flow forth like a river that cannot be dammed. Writing is my soul.
This entry was posted in Love, Stream of Consciousness Writing, Wrtiting and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Sunny Morning Ramblings (stream of consciousness flow)

  1. Pingback: Improved! | learningtocry.wordpress.com

  2. Thank you for that morning wake up! Very well written in expressing your thoughts and actions. “As the time passes… we fill in the blanks….”

    Like

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