Delayed Gift of Found Hearts (and Why Feathers Isn't Going to Do It All)

In addition to my goodie-making vortex in the run-up to the Holidays, I was also frantically collecting heart-shaped rocks. Every beach hike, I'd get back to the car with my pockets around my ankles and a couple more in my hands.  As I found better or more intriguing ones, others in the stash would get tossed, to lie somewhere as innocuous rocks, absolved of their role as heart with all its metonymic and metaphoric extensions.

I was so busy collecting the rocks, I didn't really think through how I was going to present them to their recipients. So, since I ended up being absent for the whole of the holidays, the hearts remained on the counter. I only gave two away that already had clearly intended recipients.

So, here they are on the counter, and since I'm house-and-dog-sitting, which gives me the sense of distance to allow me to spring-clean the cabin, it was time to move them.
A commemorative team photo:

Quite a motley team, united by a shape, or just the hint of it, that, for humans, speaks to depths of connection.
I found three more after taking the team photo and after having dismantled the flat montage:

The middle one is so big and weird, and the one on the right could be a foot almost as well as a heart. Had you ever imagined the heart and the foot as being similarly shaped? What metaphors could that tread out?
Some of the rocks are big and ugly, but still hearts.

 Some are small, and variously shaped. The bottom left one is actually a shell rather than a rock, and I feel a particular tenderness for it, how it's hollowed out, like half a hazelnut, like a prism.

 This one has that three-dimensional thing going on, and you can only see that it's a heart at a specific angle. Hearts are elusive sometimes. Sometimes, rocks don't know what we want them to say.

Some of them are simply, ineffably beautiful. No need for words (except a gentle curse of my lack of skills; I would love to have this picture flipped 90 degrees).

I've rambled on about found objects so many times here. These rocks are not only found but invested with special significance. There's something godly about a world in which that is possible; in which a small piece of the planet can ride in your pocket, or sit on your desk, and remind you of the precious cargo you carry within yourself, or of a precious other with whom you dance. Or, in which caressing one of these rocks can feel erotic in its sensuality. This underlying godliness is what this blog is named for.

As I'm spending more time alone (with the dogs I'm watching), I feel spaciousness. I like being by myself, even with all the other beings and noises. For a long time, I felt like I was in a tunnel, or on a runway. Now, I'm looking out through a door.
Time is still tripping me up. I'm forgoing many things in favor of writing-time and work. Email conversations are dragging because I'm taking longer to answer. My blog-citizenship has become less constant. I'm staying up late and getting up early. And yet, when I make it to the page, which is still a tardy arrival sometimes, with all the mechanics of being in a different place and taking care of the dogs, I make an excited scatter of starts and bursts as disparate as all the "hearts" pictured above, with no obvious direction or connection. They are all connected though. That little ulterior heart shape.

Speaking of ulterior, imagine the waves bonding to the sand like this.

Thank you for the feedback about the Feathers. I'm thinking photos will remain a necessity even if I don't remain living here. And comments are just a sine qua non, even if only one person comments. Thinking I should just do without them was a backhand way of putting myself down that was also impolite to potential commenters.

Gone TOo Far--Can I Turn Things Back Around? HAWMC

Today is "Stream of Consciousness Day." My first thought--"What? Stream of consciousness on my public blog?" WEGO explain that they're making precisely that challenge--that we put ourselves out there, raw, uncensored, unedited, unexpurgated subconscious thoughts and preoccupations. Their challenge: "Start with the phrase, "Today I looked in the mirror and..."--fifteen minute stream of consciousness.


OK--that's the prompt--I'm game, but afraid it'll be a stream of self-consciousness. I also worry about narcissism inherent in such a prompt, but perhaps there's something potentially narcissistic about a blog in the first place. They do say only fifteen minutes, so at least it'll be short(!) Here goes...

Today I looked in the mirror and saw dark circles under my eyes, hollow cheeks. It's nearly the end of the semester, I just have to push through a little more. I've re-established sleep at nights and taking of medications. I think I'm keeping up appearances really well: I can't imagine that any of my friends and acquaintances think anything's amiss at all.

But in truth, I'm fading.

Conversations with my husband in which he expresses deep concern about how busy I am, how little time I have to do any of the things we like to do together, how I'm not taking good enough care of myself, are becoming more frequent and more intense. This morning, he returned from a breakfast date with a friend and informed me he's ashamed of me. Ashamed that when the friend asked after me, he couldn't say I was doing well. Ashamed that my healthcare professionals are seriously concerned about me to the point that if things haven't changed within three weeks I won't be able to stay at home.

It hurts to be told that your husband is ashamed of you! It also feels kind of remote, because I'm in such a tunnel of work to be done. I know I'm running a little ragged and go a little--ok, a lot--crazy at times... But can't me being ashamed of that be enough?

The truth is, I have to acknowledge I've gone too far. In my Superpower post last week, I boasted of my minimal needs for fuel and mentioned that lately I'd been eating even less than my minimal norm. I've gotten habituated to 300 calories a day. Aside from some fatigue in the aftermath of last week's 'flu, my energy has remained fantastic, which makes it hard to understand that this isn't a good situation. The issue isn't even weight loss, although it is true my clothes are falling off of me--even with my superpower-efficient metabolism, it's a strain on my heart to be required to get so many miles to the gallon.

So, I confess--I've gone too far. And while my continued freedom makes status quo seem enticing, makes it harder to believe that this is a crisis point, said continued freedom is conditional on my keeping to a contract with my Naturopath to turn this train around and gradually, incrementally, increase the amount of fuel put in the tank.

And I can temper my incredulity that I'm in a dangerous situation, when I'm keeping up appearances so well and nobody around me has any idea about it, with the consideration that perhaps there are people around me quietly having crises to which I'm oblivious myself!

Let's all take care of each other, guys. 

What's in YOUR stream of consciousness today?