{and now for a medley of unrelated thought streams}

I’m finding there is momentous fragility in this venture to express.
I feel christened with imperfection. And I’m basking in the birth of this unpolished truth.
**
I envy the liberation of non-committal instability. But then, I know that the inherent uncertainty of such a state would drive me to a search for security. So I throw in the towel. I choose, for now, to give up on this unceasing game of running in circles chasing my own tail, nipping at the tail that is ‘control’... only just before it’s pulled from my teeth again.. I’m running too fast.

Again, it all comes back to perspective I suppose. I can decide to look at this all as simply, the way it unfortunately is. Or, I can decide to view where I’m at as just another place to spend curiosity, exercise creativity, and cultivate a story. So sometimes it’s as simple as laying yourself down on the day, and whispering to no one and everyone- ‘Go. Do. Shut up and just be.’
**
Irrelevant and purposeless development of the day: from now on, when entering info on itunes, I think I’m gonna end all the song titles with punctuation. I feel like names of songs look much more meaningful with the closure of punctuation :)
**
Summer Olympics! I’m watching 3 swimmers from different nations standing in font of the podium right now waiting to get medals.. how funny to think that they probably couldn’t understand a word of the others’ languages, yet they share as profound as having spent much of their lives, poured out their time, sacrificed and persisted in pursuit of the same goal.

So dare I say that it could be this way on much more frequent occasions, and not restricted to the rarity of glory-filled Olympic ceremonies? I mean when we’re waiting in line at Starbucks no, there may not be the bold-faced barrier of verbal language, but perhaps I don’t speak the language of divorced, as the guy behind me; or of workaholic, as the lady in front… rather than our words, maybe it’s our struggles that don’t translate. and how often am I so caught up in the anticipation of waiting for my medal, or latté, to be served, that I fail to acknowledge that the three of us are shoulder to shoulder in the midst of a strikingly similar battle- the one to stay afloat in a sea of change. 2 days ago someone preached to me that change is the only constant in life. And thus it’s one of the few few few things in life that every living and breathing human has in common. So regardless of the mistranslations we do or do not recognize, I’m confident there is always some other gem of common ground to be found and credited..

So good old Phelps is awaiting another gold. And it’s kinda wondrous and inspiring to imagine that maybe he feels goose bumps all over not just for his victory, but for the common thread that links him to his podium-mates.. a thread not of swimming, no not of the object of sport, but of the connecting parallel of passion.