2013.02.28 _ 44

Meditated in the morning.

Part of the tendency to get lost in thought during meditation is an unwillingness to come out of the meditation without something to tell, some words that describe how it was today. And this is caused by a lack of trust that something worth saying will come out, as well as an unwillingness to take time after the meditation to put things into words. I think both of those are quite unnecessary.

*** CHOCOLATE! ***

Now that I have your attention, I really mean cocoa, specifically unsweetened cocoa powder. I've found that not only is it an essential ingredient when trying to recreate an authentic Mexican taste in a spicy recipe, but that ¼ - ½ teaspoon (all that's required in most recipes) contains less than 2 grams of carbohydrate. Hooray!

Oh... and thank you all for your kind comments! :))

Appreciating Wester's comment on uncertainty and the feeling of empty-handedness (at least that is my read). I know that feeling a lot. Trusting uncertainty and seeming emptiness can feel wobbly, depending upon how sturdy I feel inside at the time.
And Storm's advice about unsweetened cocoa powder for an authentic taste.
Perhaps mourning a bit in advance because I will be at a weekend conference tomorrow through Sunday, days 45,46,47 and likely unable to post here. Hope to carry our group's presence with me...and maybe some chocolate (or cocoa).

::: A great poet's voice
::: With deep rich resonances
::: Brings tears to the eyes

Talking to Stormy in front of my plot in SL while listening to a blackbird singing as the sun goes down in RL...

.

Is grateful for difficult times as they are opportunities to learn and grow and change.
In these moments I try to remember to breathe
And look for being me

Came to write several times... but no words "of my own" seem to come.



Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

William Shakespeare
"The Tempest" (IV.i.)

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new yorker. feb 2013. / "This is Your Life" by Joan Accocella / "The Furies" by Paul Theroux / "Just Saying: the anti-theatre of Annie Baker".

Tar Sands: dirty oil and the future of a continuent / by Andrew Nikiforuk.

Climate Cover-Up: the crusade to deny global warming / by James Hoggan with Richard Littlemore.

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