Once upon a few weeks ago day, when it was just getting nice outside, the artist and the bosom friend, who is also known as "the running writer", ambled down one Atlantic Avenue in one Brooklyn neighborhood. They passed a little shop, just a tiny shop - and upon consulting with one another entered its doors. They wandered thru the wares. They sifted thru the stores, and then - it happened! The artist stumbled upon an object of magic!
Then a lot of things happened. Maybe the artist realized she'd forgotten her purse at a nail salon a few blocks away, and maybe the shop keeper was skeptical about the particular mysticism of a particular object, and maybe there was a seagull that chased the poor girl down her block while she carried the object aloft- but at any rate, soon the magical object sat upon the artist's studio table. After the artist had begun to recover from a cold and been to new jersey back and forth, and had a really intense dance class, and took a really long two day workshop at General Assembly and worked like a happy little coal miner at her fancy game designer job-job, the time came to test the power of the new-found object. It had its moment, and the artist pronounced it good.
All is right in the world. We're back at the drawing table.
Psssst.... Lately I've been thinking a lot about 'being nice'. Last weekend I had the chance to go to an anniversary memorial service for a woman who knew me seven years ago when I felt like my life was falling apart. I had just started working at job-job days after ending a years long relationship. I felt like a shell of a person and everything felt overwhelming. I can remember most of my interactions with her, because they always coaxed me in to feeling so good. For hours after we finished a quick five minute chat I'd be calm with the expectation that everything was going to be grand. When I think about her now I am impressed at her wonderful kindness. This week I've been marveling at what a unique thing it is to be able, at the end of your life, and for years afterward, to be remembered as that one beautiful word, kind.
I left last weekend's
memorial service for Naomi with a keen sense that I need to try harder. I
need to be kinder. I am working on it - which is all we really have to
do in this life. As a health coach I am so lucky to be able to coach
people to be kind to themselves too - because that teaches me a ton too.
Listening to.. right. this. minute: "Chasing Pavements" by Adele
Job-job has required near full attention as of late. As a result you've seen less sketchiness here than previously anticipated this year. Luckily, I really like job-job. Also, I really liked these fish at the zoo this weekend. That is all.