greenstorm | Shifting Sands

Things change. I think I'm coming to understand this on the important level now. I put down my plans and then the thing happens and this transmutes into that and the other thing shifts over there. If that's okay, if I'm accepting that and paying attention to steering myself through the changes, it can be pretty great. If I'm resisting the changes, not so much, because then I'm too busy trying to do the impossible to accept, enjoy, and direct the possible.

Yesterday was full of shift. Spending just the morning with Juggler-- shift --hung out with him till afternoon and did a cactus dish garden. Hanging out at the Farmer's Market with Tillie and Devon-- shift --wandering along the Drive on my own, and watering my community garden. Eating chicken at my house with Chris-- shift --cleaning my room, cleaning the rat cage, and running off to Chris' parents to eat amazing food and to chat with some friends of his parents. Getting to bed early-- shift --taking forever to get home by transit and reading The Beauty Myth for awhile.

There were more firsts for me yesterday. I went into a bookstore specifically to get a book to read *right then*, for instance. T'was fun.

I got a bunch of plants for myself as well as helping Juggler pick some out for his office. Lots of crown-of-thorns (it's a euphorbia) which are the best plant ever, plus a podocarpus and a palm and a cheapie african violet. I like plants. I've been unable to find a white goldfish, though, or a white koi. This isn't such a big deal, of course, this early in the game.

Good sleep last night, and there will be Wreck Beach today. I need to remember gatorade, and I need to water my tomatoes before I go. I wouldn't mind more sleep, too.

There's a little more shifting on my soul on the issue of Kynnin, finally. Every time I call and he says, 'not now, I'm busy' and doesn't call back-- it's like a drop of water on stone, and this is taking forever, but it *does* wear through a tiny bit at a time. I needed to uninvest myself in the outcome for this to happen, I think, to say: either I will or will not get over this in my lifetime, either way I'll keep living my life and I won't worry about it. Having done that, and not having seen him in so long, it's beginning to wear away just a tiny bit. It is precious to me, and it hurts very much to see it altered, and the idea of it gone is pretty soul-shattering. Still, there you have it: it's like water on rock, but it may actually be going now. I think it's safe to say that I've done what I can to create, to preserve, to retain (none of these words are right) this thing, and I think it's safe, too, to say that there's not much more I can do.

Leave it, Greenie. Let it go. It's not in your hands anymore. The nature of the thing means you pass it on to the other, and the other does what they will with it. What they will is not you.

It leaves me feeling sad, but kind of distantly so. The glacial time periods involved don't really allow for short sharp passionate bursts, or maybe the viewpoint I take now doesn't.

Who'da thunk it?

Tonight I get my piercing. If anyone's interested in holding my hand (like if Tillie's unoccupied. Juggler will be there for me) I'll be at Funhouse at Broadway and 14th at 6:30, or you've got my phone #.

It's very odd to think of a stranger piercing my skin like that. After the mildly startling developments of the last year with Juggler, I can see vaguely a future with him doing it, and it being a Thing, and it being precious because of it. This way, though, it's a utilitarian gesture towards something I want. So odd.

It was pretty great to hang out with Chris, too. He and I were both sleep-deprived enough that we were a little bit altered, but that was okay.