Sitting outside enjoying the rare chill

I’m drinking the last of my coffee and watching Bo explore the yard.

I’m trying to follow the instructions on my coffee mug. “Live, laugh, coffee.” My two plants I hope to not kill: bromeliad on the left and Christmas cactus on the right.

I used to be pretty good with plants. I need to re-establish a tighter bond with the earth. I hope these two plants are the first links. I want balance to return to my life.

The sky over my apartment. The screenshot is from the WKMG weather app.

My life has spun so out of control. An odd thing is happening, though. I feel it returning. It’s so subtle.

Ok, that’s humorous. As I typed that last sentence an acorn from the oak tree that over hangs into our yard just hit me in the chin, bounced off, hit my chest and fell to the ground. Is Mother Nature mocking me?

It must have me confused with those guys who start emotional stuff and never finish it.They are so annoying, especially so because the four who’ve done that to me have had advanced college degrees. It’s more proof that people can be academically smart, but still be dolts concerning the emotional half of their lives.

Am I beating a dead horse? No! I feel things extremely deeply. I also am fascinated with human behavior and society at large, and I am very reflective. Returning to this subject and my situation is therapeutic, not a desperate attempt to not let go. You know why? Because I want to LEARN from it. Each re-visit peels another layer away and is more enlightening, and I let go even more.

Emotions are not switch operated. Some people think they are. They don’t realize the lack of opportunity to learn. I am glad I am me. Here’s a psychological fact: emotions can move very quickly or more slowly. Cognitions are quicker. Usually, when people have trouble learning something cognitive, like factoring or logarithms in algebra, it’s because of some emotional dam.

Think about it.

I guess that’s all for now. I’m actually in the middle of household chores. Bo was hanging out by the front door, acting like he wanted out. Now, I think he wants in.

I think he’s thinking: the hell with waiting for Mom to come home. It’s too cold out here. He’s a Florida dog.

More later, maybe.

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