Sunday Scribblings #56 – Chance Encounter
Is there really such a thing as a chance encounter? When I think seriously about it, I’m not sure that chance encounters truly exist. There are a ga-jillion concepts related to the idea of chance encounters: unexpected events, luck, accidents, coincidence, etc. But really, I don’t think that anything that happens is truly “out of…
Read MoreThe streets of Neuvo York are over run with S’BUX, good beer is hard to find, but 39 Steps, Central Park, shopping, Nia and Porter Airlines rocked!!!
Yup, too many Starbucks. Everywhere. As I do here in Toronto, I boycotted them, opting for morning coffee and a NYC bagel from Zabar’s . They’re on the upper west side, at 80th and Broadway. Go if you’re in New York! Here’s a map. Along with the frustration of too many Starbucks was the challenge…
Read MoreSunday Scribblings #55 – Vision
Impossible. She couldn’t describe the flurry of images that only drew breath when she visited that mystical place in her mind. And she didn’t want to. Nor must she. Share them, that is. Still, intriguing. Such an unusually pleasing dream. Well, not really a dream. Because sleep is not necessary for this slide-show of fantasy.…
Read MoreSunday Scribblings #54 – Happy Ending
The end is a starting point. Is that your perspective? A time of lounging in focus. Dedication to locked in spirit. Odd Work backwards. Look behind for the map to now! You sure? Completion fuels expansion. Opportunity for metamorphosis. It doesn’t have to be happy at the end. Joy in beginning.
Read MoreSunday Scribblings #53 – Guide
Funny that the topic for Sunday Scribblings this week is “Guide“. I’ve been reading this book that my mom gave me for my birthday (back in March) called “Me to We: Finding Meaning in a Material World”. It’s funny that she bought this book for me, because when I taught Nia at The Union, I…
Read MoreSunday Scribblings #52 – My Nights
How long has it been that I’ve been remembering my nights? A perfectly square Kodak memory of my twin sister and I huddled together in a arm chair is my first memory of night.She in her Ernie hoodie, and me in my Bert hoodie were fan-clubbing a special Sesamie Street episode from the warmth of…
Read MoreSunday Scribbling #51 – Curve/Curves
Among other things, I am a curve. Curve Blackberry 30 minute fItness centres Linear regressions Data plotted on a graph Curve Bell Learning The snowboarding S Curve Distributing information Bent, deviating from being straight Geometric arc Part of a circle or sphere Curve cur·va·ceous adj having an attractive body with rounded hips and breasts
Read MoreSunday Scribblings #50 – Quitting
To be a quitter, to resign from, to leave, to abandon burden. To quit. Quitting conjures negativity. When, they have “given up”. They couldn’t tolerate their boss any longer, so they quit their job. Or they were to sensitive to be in the world, so they quit life. Or they became a “sinner” because they…
Read MoreSunday Scribblings #49 – Soar/Sore
I could be soreat those in my life who choose to soar awayand find their stuff. but i’m not.
Read MoreSunday Scribblings #48 – Telephone
Red dial telephone. I was the phone that lived in the basement at 11 Santamonica Blvd. The one that Jenn and Kim (and often Lori Day) made the crank calls with. The one that they used to speak quietly to their “boy friends” or gossip with their “best friends” on. I would sit on top…
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