Day: Saturday. Mood: Quiet

Stumptown
7:40am
I want to run again.  A lady is talking to a man about a 10k and my guts wrenched for a second.  I want that feeling of freedom, of weightlessness, of not caring and feeling my breath move in and out of stretching lungs.
My gym workouts are okay.  The stairs are good and challenging enough.  But it's not the same.  I can't walk out into my neighborhood, breathe deep the chilly air and step out onto a stairmaster. 


8:30am
Children are mesmerized by me.  I don't appear to be doing anything differently, but the last two days I have suddenly become very compelling to these new little minds.  I don't think I'm doing anything differently.  They must sense something about me.  They must sense that I'm almost 27 and without children.
I am quite okay with this, but biologically the universe is like Tick tick tick tick tick . . .
Thanks for the reminder, Universe.


8:45am
Dear Laura Walker,
I'm afraid you are severely undercharging for your artwork.  It pains me a little.
Love,
Newly Devoted Fan


8:55am
I think too hard too much.  Sometimes answers come not by thinking so hard to find them, but by relaxing the mind and letting go to let the answers arrive naturally.  Like that sand metaphor: If you squeeze too tightly a handful of sand, it spills away.  But if you hold it gently in a cupped hand, you can carry and bolster it.
I'm thinking sitting in a public space and drawing and writing is good for this kind of thing.
Relaxing my thoughts and absorbing the soothing sounds of low chatter and coffee clamor.

Why don't I do this anymore?
 ...
It feels like it's been a long time since I've sat and reflected and written down my thoughts.  It feels a little unfamiliar.
I think there's some fear.  Not wanting to confront some things, maybe.  Not wanting to address frustrations in my life and delve into thought paths that are all too familiar and, sometimes, dark.
Lately I feel like things aren't going the way I want them to.  I don't know if it's me or if it's everybody else.

It's easy to think it's everybody else.
...
I