And thoughts go by

People protested today at the province's parliament. I'm assuming to show disapproval at the measures that continue to be in place. And while I don't agree, to be honest, I kind of get it. Many of us are tired of this new normal that was thrust upon us without consent. When our houses start to feel like prisons instead of homes, it gets...frustrating. I don't look forward to tomorrow like I use to because tomorrow is the exact same as today. Have you seen the movie Groundhog Day? To be honest, I'm not sure I've seen the whole thing...I have a tendency to fall asleep during moves, much to my chagrin. But the poor guy wakes up and does the same day over and over and over. I don't know how the movie ends. Perhaps I'll see if it's on one of the subscriptions I have and find out tonight.  I guess what it comes down to, is that people need a reason to get up in the morning. A reason to make life worth living. Thankfully, I have class starting on Monday....

I've been thinking lately about the things we hold on to. Some of these things fill our homes, some fill memories, some fill dreams. And I'm sitting on the floor of my bedroom, channeling my inner Marie Kondo, picking up each book off the floor and asking myself if it still sparks joy thus determining its fate of the bookshelf or the box marked 'goodwill'. Most books are no brainers and go right back on the shelf. They hold too many memories to let go of. Some, I acknowledge that I will probably never read again but still remain on the shelf. A few I struggle to let go of. But I have to finally admit it is time to let go when I find a receipt from 2012 still stuck after the first chapter, having never finished the book. And I wondered at the things I have trouble letting go of. And I wonder if a huge part of letting go has to do with how we look at ourselves and how we think of the future. Maybe its about dreams. Believing that we are the person to pick up that book a...

I sat at my desk this morning and stared at an empty screen fully intending to fill the page with words. But the more I sat and stared at the blinking cursor, the less I could find to write about. An overwhelming sense of loss filled me as the clock ticked and Emptiness opened the door to come inside and took a seat on the couch. Instead of brushing it away, I abandoned my attempt to write and sat down next to it and turned on a movie I'd been watching the previous evening. And I sat with Emptiness for a while to gauge how long it would stay and to ask questions of why it had shown up at all. I know this sounds somber. Bear with me. For many, isolating has led to a life of climbing over top of one another, arguing over little things that suddenly appeared where annoyances never were before. Days are filled with tasks that cannot be put off. But my isolation is instead a time of self-reflection and introspection. I do not always mind this. So while Emptiness might take a seat on...

It's ok to be overwhelmed. To want to shut off all the noise and hide for a while. To not turn on the news. To not want to know about the terrible things happening in other countries or the impending doom that seems to be surmounting as the numbers rise. I drove through the starbucks drive through last week.  I went shopping to two different stores yesterday with a friend. These brief moments were a breath of fresh air surrounded in a myriad of voices in my head telling me a million things. Watch my distance. That person is standing too close. Use a glove to pick that up. Turn your face away if that person walks too close in case they breath on you. Ignore the urge to scratch your face. Don't stare at the person who just coughed. Don't judge the person whose cart is filled with canned goods. Wash your hands. Sanitize everything. Don't feel guilty for going out. Don't feel guilty for staying home. We are grieving. Maybe some of us hide well under our produc...

He reached the top of the mound, his dry boots kicking up dust. He coughed. A withered hand stretched up to wipe the sweat dripping down his forehead and stayed to shield his eyes from the scorching sun. He was tired. He looked across the pathetic fields and wondered if it would always be this way. Hot, dry, with no rain to speak of and a crop that barely fed himself. Jerry looked around and half smiled at the fleeting memories of what use to be. "Just a short dry spell" the optimists had said. He kicked at the dirt and chuckled, "some dry spell" he muttered watching the wind whip up the dust and fling it across the sky. He had stopped hoping for rain years ago.

I use to write. And by that, I mean I had a blog for a long time and then I stopped writing for the last few years. Why? Because life happens. A lot happened. But this isn't about that. This is about now. And now is, pardon my french, but a bit f*%^ed up. So I figured now is a good time to start writing again. To perhaps, get my creative juices flowing. To tap into something I like to call my joie de vivre that seemed to have gone missing for a while. So I debated starting up where I left off with my old blog. But after reading some of it, I couldn't always relate to that person because of time and circumstance. And I believe or would like to believe, that I have changed. In some ways for the better and some areas still need working on. But life would be boring if we didn't need to work on something. So this is my something. This is the thing  that I've decided to do with this pandemic. That, along with potentially maybe eventually trying to do a handstand. You...