the mercer weave

Think. Don't Think. Breathe. Write. Roam.

Flying Monkeys

Sharp rain against the window, dog breath on my cheek, irritated kitty howl, furnace fan on then off, itch on my nose, then my knee.

 It’s cold in here. Now I’m hot. I have a long day ahead of me.  Breath.  Breath.  Swallow, swallow – what’s with the swallowing?  I just know the dogs are staring at me. One eye open. Yep,  Bella’s got a bead on me.  She’s hungry. My neck hurts. My back hurts. What am I going to have for lunch?  Crap, I forgot to charge my phone.  Did I leave the headlights on all night? Jimmy Carter is really smart. He nailed his talk last night.

 

One gentle bell. It’s time for metta.

 

May you be happy. May you have peace. May you be free from pain and suffering.

 

Why do people watch that show about the Kardashians?

 

Whoa, where did that come from?

 

But it’s a legitimate question, I think. Stop. Breathe. Breathe. Come back to the breath – that is the point, I think.

 

There I am thinking again.

 

Three bells. Three beautiful bells. Bow of gratitude.

 

So glad to be back.

 

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One thought on “Flying Monkeys

  1. Ooops Debbie I think I posted my reply to this in wrong spot.(in the About section)..oh well….I’m still a student always…Sending you lots of our Aussi sunshine n sea breezes.

    Lynne

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