scene

It has only been one week since my injury, but it feels like it has been a lifetime. I am still so discouraged and don't expect myself to be less discouraged in the near future. But in the FAR future? In the far future I better be the opposite of discouraged. I better be so full of light and groovy vibes that I bleed sparkles and shit rainbows. In order to get to this far future, however, I might actually have to put in a little work now. I won't go into a long spiel about living in the now because we've all heard it before, so instead I will just say...

FUCK IT!!!

Sorry, mom!!! I am so sorry! Fudge it. Fudgebucket it. There you go. Point is, in much calmer, more appropriate words, I can't keep obsessing over a future scenario and forget about the current scenario. If I do, I will be miserable and the future, be it near or far, will also be miserable. The key is to live deeply in this moment. Wrap yourself up in what's in front of you, Meg. But also stop calling yourself "Meg." Meg is an identity. And so is Running Girl and Anorexic Chick and Writer and Blogger and Daughter and Reader and... And what's so wrong with identities? Nothing is inherently wrong with being this or being that, but you run into trouble when you attach yourself to being this or being that -- the trouble is the lack of freedom, the absence of sufficient oxygen. There is no room in labels. There is no vision beyond. It is a fiction disguised as the only way.

So now that I have limited mobility, I am going to move beyond the body and focus my attention on the mind. It has become overgrown with weeds due to years of neglect. Sorry 'bout that, Mind! But let's get down to business now. And let's cut those strings to the storylines that keep weighing you down. Good thing I brought my garden shears.

The sun! The sun came back out! Looks like the sun is my true nature and the clouds are never permanent.