Get Drenched Today

"Is it Really Possible to tell someone else what one feels?"  Leo Tolstoy  Anna Karenina

3:30 am & at first it is a scene within my deep asleep moving dream, the tapping of tiny raindrops upon the rooftop.  My eyes work their way open.  Ahhh. the gentle lull of rain falling through the dark silence, one of my favorite things.  Lying there concentrating upon the rhythm, I suddenly find myself moving toward the sound.  Navigating to & out of the front door, One Cold Drop upon my foot & I am fully awake.   I am tempted to turn & run back into the warmth, back into the comfort of an awaiting blanket, but not today.  Today, forward seems to be the more intriguing motion.  Bare feet upon chilly cement & with each step I am becoming drenched.  With each drop of rain I am becoming more sensitive to the cold & of a chilling wind moving across me, moving right through me.   My eyelashes lower, obscuring the view as the falling moisture forces them closed.  As drops fall within the creases of my skin,  I realize the curve of my arms, the bend of my knees & the space between my toes.  I am aware.  The heaviness of some drops as they pounce upon my head in strict contrast to the lighter ones which softly brush against my face while being carried away by the wind...
I am aware.
I am aware of me.
I am aware of the fact that I rarely choose to be aware of anything.

Why do we grow up & forget to feel?


May You Get Drenched Today

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams


xo


Birdee Bow

Change Comes in The Color Cherry Red

"He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance, one cannot fly into flying."  --Friedrich Nietzche

I never cared much for driving. Even when I was 15.  Nope.  Didn't really care.  My dad had just bought a brand new Cherry Red Mustang GT with black racing stripes.  It was a gorgeous car. A car that he actually wanted to teach me to drive.  Of course it was a manual transmission, the very thing I most feared in life,  & learning to drive a brand new sports car while sitting next to your father who paid for it?  Yep, not a relaxing experience to say the least.  As I desperately tried to focus on his instructions (amidst the periodic flinching of his face) I ground my way through the gears, time & time again.
 NOT pleasant & needless to say NOT successful.  I gave up long before he did,  making up some excuse about needing to be somewhere & explaining how we should really get home before I mutilated the car. 
Looking back now I realize how much he wanted to pass his love of driving on to me along with his passion for the open road & for shiny fun sports cars. I truly believe he would have let me grind those gears to bits, or at least until the sun went down, if I had showed any interest at all.
"driving is independence" 

Fast forward & as I hit the road on a dime in an independent rock band, there was no need to drive.  A van full of guys willing to take the wheel;  willing to navigate me to our concert destinations while I'm reading, applying makeup, chatting on the phone or mindlessly gazing at the scenery. I will never need to drive again! Psssh.  "driving is independence" Whatever! 

Fast forward a wee bit more &
I'm starting to see things Dad's way.
Funny how that happens isn't it?

Change is Scary
Change is Undeniable
Change is Fast
Change is WHOA.Change?
Maybe Change can be fabulous if you only give it a chance...
Fabulous Like A Little Cherry Red Car 
Make Mine Automatic Please ;)

Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams

xoxo


Birdee Bow