Watching oneself in emotional disarray creates a mindtrap, but the heart can pound a way free.

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Procured years back from the Detroit Value Village, this blue leather and fox fur trench is absolutely as soft and supple as it appears to be. With a red lip, the glamour factor is fairly guaranteed.
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I like to layer two less bulky coats.  The warming wool underneath with the wind-breaking leather on top serve to rival almost any conventional winter coat.  I’m looking joyous at this point in the evening because my buddy showed up while I was selfying, which means it’s joke time.
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Said buddy directs the photo shoot, with thumbs up all around for the sink.  Trusty argyle dance stockings layered over like 2 layers of tights and another 2 pair of socks.

A terrible tide of grumped up grouch arose to claim my moods today, and I only barely wanted to do anything about it.  Unexpectedly, several rounds of climbing up a sledding hill to the point of heart poundings because holding a 40 pound small child somehow worked to sooth my irrationally terse inner-beast mode of storm cloud and eyeroll.

Perhaps the downturn could be ascribed to the typical paroxysms of the psyche which occur when one feels a lack of control.  I’m sane enough to be grateful that it’s nothing worse, but I am stressed out by the failure to procure new housing as a springtime move out deadline looms ever nearer.

Come to think of it, the specter of a move is in general a drag, with so many elements tending toward drudgery and high potential for regret.  It’s like purposefully placing a careful collection of the most fragile eggs in a likely shoddy basket that probably lacks proper insulation and is set on a too-busy street with loud dogs barking next door.

So my flawed human brain figured to be mean and impatient to see if that helped matters.  None too surprising, that seemed only to accomplish the killing of everybody’s joy.

Thus proving the existence of body wisdom, where bones and blood and air converge into strength enough to scale a height of dragging snow, recover and have a look at the closer sky, to then again allow the thrill of ceding some control over the downward slide.

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. DGGYST says:

    “Thus proving the existence of body wisdom, where bones and blood and air converge into strength enough to scale a height of dragging snow, recover and have a look at the closer sky, to then again allow the thrill of ceding some control over the downward slide.” This is poetry!

    Like

  2. Ooooo, thank you! I like the thought of prose as an flattering follower striving to imitate marvelously mercurial poetics!

    Like

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