Gothic Granola

Circle 'round the wagons and pull up a rock or log to the firepit, folks... While walking on Friday morning, that small, still voice said to me, There will be voices and they will tell me what to do. Let's take a step back and not breathe in the smoke from the fire too much. In the abundant sunlight as I was walking outside, I felt warm when I heard this. I was reassured. In recent memory, this is the second conviction I have had, have received. From whom or what, I can't tell you because I don't know.

You'll receive what you give And this is like nothing I feel like shit But at least I feel something "Disconnected" by In Flames Artistically and technically, the above song isn't hot stuff, but I appreciate the directness of the lyrics. For a rainy Monday, I made this spiced cake to warm up the space, to edge out the creeping voidness, the damp, cold snot of springtime. More specifically, the limp, clammy grip of another spring spent alone. I used to look with scorn on the coupled people I'd see holding hands around town and on Princeton's campus. Now I see I was jealous. Still jealous! A little self-care can go a long way to putting me in the right place to alleviate said loneliness, even while still alone.

This is the 179th blog post on Gothic Granola, formerly Screwfoot Q. It's time to make a 180 degree turn on some issues.

Stare at blank paper every morning, every day and you will overcome the fear of The Blank Page. As a matter of course, you will begin to overcome other fears of beginnings and unknowns, as well. I hadthis insight about Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages exercise from The Artist’s Way while taking today’s walkies. In walking the last two days, I’ve uncovered two more nonnegotiables. I must make time to take a 20-70 minute walk each day. Walking not only relieves mental constipation, it’s frickin’ essential after being inside each day to remind the body, “You live on the Earth, not in buildings above the earth. This is where you come from. This is where you’ll go.”

They don't pay me to think anymore, so I tend to think hard anyway. When I'm speeding home from closing shift, downing 800 mL to 1 L of water in order to rehydrate while blasting Rage Against the Machine, my mind runs in high gear. It's time to write. It's difficult to be consistent in other areas of life when one's job is inconsistent. Let us begin with this premise. Being a cashier and having a standing sedentary job is no more healthy than being a desk jockey with a sitting sedentary job. The inconsistent hours, workload, and cast of characters is beginning to wear on me. When a job begins to impact my health negatively, in preventable ways, then it's time to go. This is a job, not my career.

A video primer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UsQTzxzDYjw

Or in this case, apricot.