I have pondered back and forth the idea of writing this blog in either poem or stanza form, and I'll confess, I haven't quite figured out which one I'm going to stick with. Spontaneity is the name of the game in my book these days, because I like not knowing the ABC's of what's next. Processing logistics only makes my head hurt.
There was a moment today where I felt a rewind back to months ago...and it was certainly a wretched feeling. Someone of my 5'9" stature should not feel as if she is a midget amongst terrible giants. Nor should someone who's performed amazing feats of strength feel like she's about to be crushed by a spatula. It's simply not logical, and I am definitely not a fan.
On to more important and positive subjects.
I love the feeling of being completely protected, and strangely enough, it scares me sometimes. I've had several moments of 'Dear Rachel. Run. Run away before anything goes wrong.' Clearly, my psyche has the intelligence to know my heart's an idiot-hence, I have stayed very stationary.
There was a moment today where all I could hear was the rain pounding against my parents roof and my imaginative dialogue of Jane Eyre and her woman power (I really love Charlotte Bronte.) I like hearing the sound of inner British dialogue. Does that make me crazy? Meh, probably. But who cares. I love Literature. I like the moments that are encompassed by me sitting and simply being. There are not enough of those, so when they happen, I tend to treasure them.
I guess I didn't write a poem, or even share any brilliant thoughts this time, but that's okay. I can't echo with brilliance all the time. I'm not in the Bronte or Austin tree.