This false spring is energizing and pulling me up out of my bored quiet. Our prayer flags dance like whirling dervishes, whipping little rectangles of overlapping yellow blue red gold into a darkening sky. I've been thoroughly aired out, driving with windows down under such blue the storm warnings were laughable. Then suddenly the storm appears, frenzied air spits rain. Electricity moves in the air, abandons our wires.
Later, the Bird is an adventurer. Flashlight in hand, she explores every pocket of darkness: "Nossing to be 'fraid of here!" She goes to sleep more easily than she has been, but I can't sleep. The storm is exciting and scary, but I'm tired from a candle-lit evening with stories and snuggling. I like not knowing the time in the dark, but hearing the metronome click from the analog clock on the wall. I think of gears and eventually sleep.
Wind makes me plan changes. I'm considering moving my art stuff here and simplifying all this. I'm inspired by a Lexie tough love conversation, and by this:
White Hot Truth. It made me consider the bravery and self-empowerment of just writing from one true self and using my real name. I need to simplify mentally and time-wise, and to stop compartmentalizing everything. I'm thinking it through, resisting the urge to follow the impulse without letting it settle. I feel giddy with ideas and possibilities and change. I'm remembering myself and building a new self too. Growing alongside my baby girl and digging that very much.