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HEAD ROOM
Wednesday Sept. 2, 2015
Yet every day, this head feels so full.
I could spill gallons. Many gallons of ink … I think, what now – type, speak, walk, sit silently, run, run away?
Just when our head feels ready to burst or erupt, there is always room for more. Shove it in. Move something over, shift some priorities. There is always room for more. And then your phone rings, somebody stops by or a bird will sing – something will trigger something new – then then another puzzle piece needs space, needs a place.
Push something aside, make room for more …
Where can we put it all?
If our computer is crowded, we buy a new one. With a bigger faster drive. And more storage. Mostly to accommodate the voracious appetite for space that software has – as opposed to needing space for our output.
Having so much to consider and not knowing which way to go is normal. Healthy. And when our heads are so full, we are wealthy beyond measure because that fountain of ideas, questions and contradictions is magical.
When we don’t know which way to turn it is far more often our head has too-many as opposed to too-few ways to go, too many paths to follow as opposed to no options.
From time to time when we feel our ideas aren’t good enough, our energy isn’t high enough or people we are trying to get through to aren’t listening well enough …
A mouthful of words is just noise, lost on morning’s breeze, not even heard by prairie dog ears, but when our head is full, I mean idea-full, that is so fabulous-full.
Mark Kolke
written / published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: 11C/51F, big moon still hanging, steady breeze pushing clouds away, traffic humming loud/early – back to school and back to work, this city is humming again like a beehive that took the summer off. Gusta walked, pooped, wagged her tail and moved along. We all need to do more of that …
Reader feedback:
DEJA WHO
Short. Sweet and too the point. We are. All of that. And more. As my siblings used to tell me when we were young (I was the youngest) "Life's a stage, get over it.", LG, Calgary, AB
PRIDE IS PERSONAL
This one is really a dive into realism...so proud of you for disclosing and claiming your right to be proud. My dad was an alcoholic who didn't drink for I don't know...50 years I guess...The AA program taught him so much which he then applied to everyday life. He was an amazing contributor to other's well-being. You are too, SF, Lethbridge, AB
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