She had a nose for roses,& a knack for good weather
inside & out.
Fortunately, the dryer wasn't working too efficiently, so I took a walk around a couple blocks & called my sons & drew the above picture & started this blog. Lucky me. (I am hoping the dryer--on another setting--gets its act together.)
I had me another massage today--goodness, can that guy find the spots that need finding. Yikes! Very therapeutic. Grin. (Back when I was in massage school, we used to call the superficial, feels-good-but-isn't-really-doing-anything sort of massage a fluff n' buff. This was not a fluff n' buff.)
I am looking forward to the day when Brett says, "Wow, you're really relaxed all over. Come back next month." In preparation for this, I have scheduled another therapeutic massage next week, am planning on some more daily stretching &--perhaps most importantly--I had the revelation that one of the the sources of my muscular rigidity was based on an old thought habit. Increasingly, I've been letting go of it, without knowing exactly what I was doing. Now I've figured it out--aha!--& I can be even more effective.
So, you want to know what"it" is, do you? Of course you do. (& if you don't, just skip down to the bottom for the Blog alternative.)
It: I have been, for as long as I can remember, one of those people who has lots of rules or programs or plans for how things do--or should--or will--work. Like planning out a conversation in advance: I'll tell her this & then that & she'll probably be like this & then, blah blah blah. That sort of thing. For someone who will set off into the wild blue of a novel based on a sentence or an image, having an outline for a future conversation is rather preposterous, but there it is, or rather, WAS.
If I am the marvelous being that I know I am, made of light & love & all that, well, that ought to be good enough to handle pretty much any situation, without advance planning. So, when I find myself doing that sort of thing, I just breathe & relax & let it go. I'm doing fairly well. Not perfect, but 40 years or so of a habit (I know I started this sometime in grade school) doesn't have to exit all spit spot spiffy. At least I've given it notice.
More to tell you, but I'd better check on the clothes.
Blog alternative:
137. Ask yourself if you overplan. Plan to do less of it. (Grin.)
