River of Stones: Day 15
In the still and quiet of the early morning, as my coffee brews and my cats flood the kitchen with their water bowl, I see the day ahead of me and wonder, “What shall I do? How will I be?”
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All my little stones feel snarky, whiny and petulant. My first layer of “awareness” is sticky and gums things up. If I try to stay “small” and focus on the flash, that is what I get: the lint of pessimism that doesn’t wipe away. It is what has made this Small Stones Writing Project so bloody difficult. It is what rubs against the space that has always been Realisa.
This is my 700th post, and I must redefine my purpose. This space was an intentional but personal behavior and cognitive exercise to get past the Glass is Half Empty and see the beauty of the glass, be thankful for it being half full and remark on how splendid it tastes. But to get there, I have to dive deep and plunge THROUGH the film of scum on the surface. To get there, I felt I had to do it in a way I couldn’t conceal. Even when no own read a single word I wrote, I kept at it because it made me honest…with myself.
And in three years, I realize, the meniscus of negativity on the surface has not diminished. I have just become adept at getting past it.
This Small Stones writing exercise has helped me see what I was ignoring, what I was hoping would evaporate. I thought if I focused my perspective I could dissolve the negative. But like congealed fat on cold soup, the negative remains. And honestly, some fat is necessary. A totally fat free soup tastes like shit. But, I can skim SOME of it off. Simply warming everything up makes the fat less visible but no less present. And while the negative sarcasm adds a depth and texture that makes for a tasty soup…it also builds up plaque in my heart and chokes out love and life.
My heart deserves a lighter, healthier diet. The future must now focus on eliminating from the stock that fat and to not see it as punitive or restrictive. Rather, this final revision of an old recipe means that I can enjoy it without guilt or recriminating myself. I truly want to be healthier and lighter. I don’t have nostalgia for the old world recipe, I just need to have the courage to re-write it to suit my tastes. It won’t be the stock I have always made. And others may enjoy things as they have always been…..but it’s gonna kill me if I don’t make the final adjustment. Let the stock cool and then skim off the glop that floats to the top. It’s impossible to remove it all, the stock is to complex and hearty….this is not bouillon. This is a stew. A Always hidden within that mulligatawny will be the droplets and molecules that lend flavor and richness.