Starfish Time: My friend (Irreverent Rhyme) told me about this. Starfish were thought to be relatively inactive, until someone started filming them in time-lapse, and then it turned out that they were traveling and foraging and even fighting -- just v e e e r y s l o w l y . . .
This blog post has been sitting in draft form for weeks, if that gives you an idea of why I liked this notion. Starfish *do* get things done, but on their own schedules.
Well, I am a little restless about my own lack of momentum, so I did register for an online writing workshop for Jan.-Feb. I will benefit from having deadlines and accountability, as well as the feedback and literary interaction.
I might start using this blog as a place to play with smaller pieces of the memoir project, but I also might not. I am not sure what its uses are for me, yet.
The pandemic is worse in the U.S. than ever, thanks to rampant antiintellectualism and the amoral conmen in power. Vaccines probably won't be available for us nonessential folks until May or June. I'm practicing my socially distanced yoga, making tiny starfish steps in my writing projects, and trying to grow herbs indoors. Basil and thyme are happy; mint and parsley, nonplussed; cilantro might end up being a waste of coriander seeds, but it's fun to watch the tiny sprouts struggle up from their bit of earth.
Quote of the Day: From one of the Yoga Heights classes on youtube...
"You're not here to punish yourself, you're here to explore how to open your body, and that tends to happen easier when you're nice to it." -- Becky Paris
(Or as my therapist used to say -- "Don't beat yourself up; that's your Domme's job.")
