Showing posts from October, 2023

A Choice, A Skill, A Conversation, The Thrill

Love is a choice,  Love is a skill.  Love is having  the tough conversations,  and finding in them  the thrill.  #lovemusings


I used to be  an unstoppable force  Now  I am  an immovable object.  #states

Food Haze

Lying in bed, feeling horrendously bloated, with zero motivation to get up and start exercising.. and I have to think about what got me into this state.  A huge meal of chicken cutlet, mushroom soup and a side of Indian rojak.  The perpetual state of food coma is something we are quite familiar with, yet it goes much deeper than that - we spend our hard earned money to overeat on dirty, fast and expensive food, not realizing it’s level of inflammatoriness and the effects that it can have on our basal metabolic state and rest state.  What we put into ourselves matters.  In the same vein, when we ingest thoughts of negativity, ego and pain body, this puts us into a Life Haze. If we aren’t even watching what we eat, then how can we be watching what we listen/speak/feel?  If you eat light, eat clean, it translates to feeling light feeling clean and being light being clean.  Never again, Indian Rojak!!  #consciousness #consciouseating

(8) Painting the Morn by nicholaiv

(8) Painting the Morn a short story by nicholaiv There's an asymmetry to us in the mornings. I imagine how it would be rendered by an artist: from above, me in my corner wrapped around the metaphysical hole in my heart; and you, turned in the opposite direction, far, far away in your winter palace of pillows and sheets.   This morning, you wake up and I stir. You feed the cat wrapped in the silence of a gray morning. The bathroom light clicks on, and I hear the running of a faucet. A calm drifts through my roused consciousness as the awareness of you in motion registers, but it has a melancholy aftertaste.   Today is not just today. This morning is every simple morning we've shared, waking up in our bed. To continue with the metaphor of the artist: they're all overlaid on top of each other like sketches on wax paper done by the same practiced hand; no two mornings are the same but as more sketches are made themes emerge. These themes are the impressions of our relationship