Entries Tagged as 'Ruminations'

Super Soul Sunday: Stallion Story

January 19th 2014

An old farmer lives on his farm with his teenage son. He also has a beautiful stallion that he lovingly cares for. The farmer enters his stallion into the annual county fair competition. His stallion wins first prize. The farmer’s neighbors gather to congratulate him on this great win. He calmly says, “Who knows what is good and who knows what is bad?”

Puzzled by this reaction, the neighbors go away. The next week, some thieves who heard about the stallion’s increased value steal the horse. When the neighbors come to commiserate with the farmer they find him again very calm and gathered. He says, “Who knows what is good and who knows what is bad?”

Several days later, the spirited stallion escapes from the thieves and finds his way back to the farm bringing with him a few wild mares he has befriended along the way. To his neighbors’ excited rounds of congratulations, the farmer once again says, “Who knows what is good and who knows what is bad?”

A few weeks later, the farmer’s son is thrown off one of these new mares as he is trying to break it in, and his leg is fractured. As the neighbors gather to commiserate with the old farmer, he one again reminds them, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”

The following week, the imperial army marches through the village, conscripting all eligible young men for the war that has just broken out. The old farmer’s son is spared due to his fractured leg. The neighbors no longer bother to come to the old farmer to congratulate him. By now they know what his response will be…

Source: Positive Intelligence by Shirzad Chamine

The Plan

April 11th 2013

I’ve been writing, I swear! Just lots of drafts.

Most of it has been fairly dark, despite the fact that I feel happy. And when it’s not depressing it’s weird and ADD-ish–haphazard, unedited, far-from-finished. One of my latest masterpieces starts with the title “I Cry While Watching The Voice“. It only goes downhill from there until it tapers off because I got distracted YouTubing videos of past season winners and their auditions. (Wait but seriously, does anyone else cry? Watching people’s dreams come true is BEAUTIFUL).

Speaking of crying, I spent a different half-piece musing about the evolution of tears…from what they mean scientifically to why in the worldd I’ve been crying so much. Not sad tears at all but sort of cathartic, empathetic and sometimes even happy ones (like at The Voice and Lentil). My conclusion, so I can spare you that hot mess of an essay, is that it’s either severe overtiredness (probably) or that I’ve been feeling so acutely alive lately (eye roll, but really). There’s also a lot of anecdotes about how I feel pretty when I cry. My face gets flushed, my lashes look glossy and my eyes are sweet and round. Vulnerable baby deer pretttty.

In way more important news, I’ve been writing a book. Which is the purpose of this whole post: I have a new idea for a book that I’m so excited about! After digitally stopping by a James Altucher Twitter Q & A (from my bed, at 3pm, on a Thursday…before I wasn’t not depressed), I went from a bad place to an inspired one. I am going to self-publish an e-book, a How (and Why) To Quit Your Job and Travel The World manifesto, title TBD, 30-40 pages-ish, talking about the practicalities of leaving interspersed with anecdotal stories, inspiration, advice, etc. Thoughts? What would you want to read? Anything specific? Something totally different? “I Cry While Watching The Voice”??

LMK.

4:43AM

March 25th 2013

That’s what time it is.

I actually haven’t slept in 44 hours save for three hours last night which barely count because I spent them nightmaring that I was on a flight with this random guy I knew in boarding school and he set himself on fire. Normall.

Usually I giggle and say “I’m like Jack Bauer” when I don’t sleep for more than 24 hours straight, but sometime after hour 30 I feel less cute, more cracked. Thankfully my serious dream googling discovered that fire isn’t a bad thing as long as you’re not the one burning. What it can mean is that you’re being consumed by your own ambition (likely), passionate sexual feelings (rearr) and I’ve already lost interest in googling this further. It’s a fun side effect from lack of sleep, my normally rapt attention span starts waning. That and my appetite.

I ordered mozzarella sticks from Moonstruck diner tonight (last night?) because it was the only thing open at 11:15pm when I got hungry for dinner; then I ate half of them and watched the oozing cheese harden on the remainder as I chugged Activate water (stocked in my fridge thanks to a generous publicist). The Defend flavor felt right. So did a good scrub with my new La Prairie Cellular Mineral Face Exfoliator which is just the perfect amount of rough–like a fancier, better-smelling apricot scrub (a middle school favorite that I still use but only on my arm bumps now)

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marinating

March 15th 2013

I had my psychic today and he did not tell me what I wanted to hear.

I was hoping he’d somehow justify my urge to flee, tell me he saw a beach or adventures in my near future, but even without his vision of my vision, I felt a clear calling. I will discuss the session at some point when I’m not too lazy to transcribe it (yup, recorded him!) and can eloquently process what I’m feeling.

The aftermath, however, was the desperate SVU-esque need to take a bath. I have lived in my apartment for almost four years and have taken only two other baths: Three years ago when I water damaged my phone bbming with a guy, the last one was a week ago for no particular reason and I realized, I should do this more often.

And then tonight. I poured in a packet of Joyful Bath Co.’s ‘Nilla Buttermilk Renewing Bath Salts and grabbed my over-highlighted copy of “The Art of Non-Conformity” (recently rediscovered); I read it until my upper lip started feeling steamy–I very rarely sweat.

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Opportunities, Psychics, et al.

March 13th 2013

I need to blog more. And figure out my life. So here I am killing two birds with one stone…

An opportunity recently presented itself where I could go and travel again and get paid to do it this time. Basically the situation I’ve been trying to find since I got home exactly five months and twelve days ago. But somehow I’m not jumping at it…

yet?

Partially because I’m half waiting for tomorrow’s appointment with a psychic healer slash intuitive counselor. Tony. He comes highly recommended from an impossibly hip publicist at everyone’s favorite (or maybe second favorite) Parisian beauty company. Over our leisurely eggs benedict breakfast I tapped his name out in my Notes and it felt serendipitous even then. Waiting lists impress me and when I called back in January he had one two months long–it’s apparently now five months (seriously, see if you can get in before August) since he recently appeared on Dr. Oz, which also impresses me even though I’ve never seen the show. Anyways, the appointment could not have come at a better time (another great sign) because I have no idea what to do with my life and I just want someone who knows to tell me.

I’m basically one step above women who send money to Internet boyfriends.

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