s c r e w e d - u p

My fabulous girlfriends do more in a day than we presume others, and take glorious pride in doing so.

“I’m a doer.” S told me last week.

That, we are.

We run.

We run companies, research facilities, restaurants, classrooms, lecture halls, courtrooms, estates, programs, festivals.

We run households. We are class moms, team moms, band moms, fur moms, dance moms, home health providers.

We hit it from dawn until sometimes pre-dawn checking homework, dispensing meds and writing. Writing dissertations, blogs, book proposals, papers, reviews, novels and lists.

It’s as if the one who does the most, wins! Sometimes we do!

Last night when chatting with D, she said, “I’m going to slow my world.”

Instantly, I thought of a life in screw. I pondered the rest of the conversation of how to obtain an ever more screwed- up version of my super busy life.

Some may understand this reference. Mmmm? How do I explain? Okay, when the dj slows the tempo of the music to a walking through water pace, and the listener’s perception moves to slow-mo like the walls are melting – that’s screwed up.  

Where IS Mike Jones?

I’m the dj. I’m the listener. The music is my life. The word is s c r e w.

I need a few accompanying tempo altering words. intention & breath.

This morning I’ve been alternating my focus of these three words.

intention

Deliberately acting and solo-tasking

breath

Deep and delicious

screw

Measured steps with precise sensory perception

When I left my house this morning, Bob began to blare from the radio television station- “Rebel Music”!

I dropped my bags and broke out into a slow wine. 

I’m s c r e w e d – u p and i n t e n t i o n a l l y loving every b r e a t h.

love