Sitting here, making coffee, I worry about taking care of myself, and the like. I usually think about being alone and such. I worry about physical pain. I think about the future. At fifty, I wonder who will be there if I break a hip someday. Not sure. Sometimes, I think about aging and my looks although I've been letting a lot of that go. But I also think, it's OK to do some things for myself.
Sometimes, I read some spiritual things...sometimes I like them and sometimes, I don't, ha. I might think about the books I've written and daydream quite a bit, and my imagination is fierce most of the time. I laugh about how terrible I am at marketing. I worry about our country, our world, and the like. The weather, a symptom. Some mornings, I feel sexy. Other times, I feel fierce and wild. And still other days, I'm terrified or peaceful. I suppose it's OK to be afraid. I suppose it's OK to be human. I talk to that which I call God -- everything, everyone, every creature, nature, and the divinity within.
I text some folks. I poke around at some readings, and I check out some photos and other art. I read some fiction. I pay some bills. I look at my pink slippers and wonder if I should wear them more. They just sit there most of the time. Then I think about a character who always wears pink slippers, a killer, yeah, ha. Then I develop a whole story about The Pink Slipper Killer. And I'll be annoyed until I start writing about the mess. And then, I start cracking up.
And I often dream about a small house, a pet, a partner, me sitting in a comfy chair reading something while someone else is there, present in another room...working on something. It warms my heart and yet, in my present life, the days keep rolling out pretty much the same...I laugh, have fun, work hard, read, write, and try to help some folks. I drift around. Pretty simple. When I am not working, I'm alone most of the time, which is OK. I don't know if I'll ever have that yellow kitchen. Or that person in the other room. I suppose I'd like a dog and a keyboard too, I dunno. I'm stuck in a dream that I want to be real. I've been there my whole life. Sometimes, I crack up at that too.
When am I truly at my best lately? Well, I enjoy singing. And the other day, I was taking a walk, and I sang some Nina Simone lines, and I picked up a stick, and I imagined that I was a great warrior from another land, and I talked to the trees and the sky, and I felt as free and wild as if I were 5 years old. I have these kinds of adventures a lot on my walks, on a daily basis, and it is magnificent.
My best self is not when I am at work. My best self is when I am at play. And when the work is play, rad. I know the magic when I am alone, and I am accustomed to that but every now and then, when I allow my best self to shine, I can add a little magic to someone else's life too.
Maybe I am doing that for you right now.
Yes.
Yesterday, I asked myself this question: what is it that I truly want and need? Then I got quiet, and I waited, and I allowed my thoughts to settle.
The answer: allow yourself to play and love. Allow yourself to play and be loved. When I am in touch with myself in the moment, and I share this with you, the magic simply happens. XO.
Good morning. Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell
