quest

In a manic quest
there are those among us
hoping 2motiv8 those 
who refuse 2communic8
things they hope 2initi8 
there4 serving 2exasper8
those who continue 2agit8
the current conditions of the times.
...therefore sit & wait on nothing...
...or move & cre8 something...
such an insurmountable formul8tion

© 2011 www.cynthyareed.com

All rightz rezerv’d

Diva Dust

Taco Salad. That's what I love to cook when I don't feel like cooking. And talking about cooking, unless it's about someone else doing it--makes me break out in psychological hives as the holidays approach.

Just as I was cleaning up today's dishes --- and I could kiss the woman who came up with the idea for an automatic dishwasher that a man more than likely got credit for inventing--this one truth flitted through my mind during my collective strawberry scented suds-busting session.

Those who entertain for the holidays, must also feel the pressure of cleaning EVERYTHING for the holidays.

So what's so merry about that? (Stop sitting there wondering. It was me who asked you first!)

The best holidays I can remember are the times when I was totally left alone and in a writing mood. You know there's something about the fact that in the times of habitually materialistic-seeking seasons just makes the writer in me want to find an abandoned spot at Mammoth Cave and hide out with a flashlight, a 10-pack of 99 cent store ball point writing pens, some Doritos, bottled green tea and a ream of freshly recycled paper to honor the forest in my midst. But back to the cleaning bit. . .


And my home would be dubbed by my relatives who think I'm "the weird one" as uninhabitable for the holidays. Truth be told, do any of us as writers really want to entertain anyway? I don't know about you but outside of my own children, I don't really care to pursue the acceptance of anyone's Martha-Stewart tastes who cannot accept me for the "comfy" person that I am. But I do have my limits.

If you, like myself, consider yourself a holiday homebody who has a favorite pair or shoes, robe, boxer shorts or even if you just like typing naked....(cover the chair others may be sitting where your bare butt left its cheekmarks) then you might appreciate my limits on "clutter vs. diva dusty clutter." Figure out the comfy for yourself. I'm gonna deal with the "diva dusty."

Diva dusty means there is so much dust in your home that the dust mites collaborate to formed a union.

Diva dusty means that the cat wants to go outside in the daytime.

Diva dusty means the roaches are evicting YOU!

Diva dusty means that your brand new upright vacuum cleaner is sagging.

Diva dusty means that every where you walk in your house, a stranger can come in and tell exactly where you've been.

Diva dusty means the dust-bunnies under your bed have become dust-zombies.

Diva dusty means your bookshelves have track marks.

Diva dusty means you really don't have an allergy to dust at all...you have an allergy to Endust.

And finally. . .

Diva dusty among writers is so popular that we could all collect it in a fruit jar and say we bought the ashes of Edgar Alan Poe. When dust moves from a comfortable clutter to a platform used for finger-art, it's time to call the family together not for the holidays, but for an emergency intervention.

So if you find yourself wanting to send the muse on vacation so you can "deck dem halls" for the holiday season, if the waxy buildup is more than enough to make a tea-light candle, don protective gear and a filtration mask.

Whatever you do, REMEMBER TO BE KIND TO THE BUNNIES! (YOUTUBE VIDEO)


That's my rap...now takin' a nap!
blessin's,
cynth'ya

Raindance

The resilience of spirit is far underrated in times of uncertainty and change. Never should any of us forget that we are bigger than our circumstances, and more factual about own own lives than Wall Street and CNN.

To move forward, we have to all continue to believe that we are not equal to the circumstances that surround us. God is not the author of junk nor of castaways. That's humanity's mistake, not God's. We all need to beware of the negative spirits that bring about death of the mind, soul and eventually body from the negative toxins that are created when we are stressed and frustrated. So what is one solution?

Well, you're reading it. They are words. Let them travel through your soul. I pray you find your journey most pleasant, and your destination one that welcomes the positive changes you are soon to discover. Just keep on the right road. Clouds may look loathsome in our lives, but it is the cloud that holds the rain of regeneration.

So let's all join hands, and dance in the rain.

P.S. Words are all around us. But words also have an ultimatum based on the purpose of those who put them out into the hard-copy and wireless universe. Somewhere in the bible there is a passage about the power of the princes of the air.

(Truth is I would look it up but then I'd lose my train of thought to the thief called "short term memory due to sleep deprivation-by-choice, or as I call it, "Muse overload due to massive invasions of inspiration." So I'll just keep on typing. Maybe looking up the passage might help people discover a spiritual truth or two,

God bless y'all. . . that's my rap.

cynth'ya

"Else"

"Who knew?"

This abbreviated yet surging question is one I ask myself often. Like most baby boomers it is not difficult to admit that I've lived more years than I will have left. Therefore, it is time to do something "else."

But the difference, even after having been in this writing frame of mind for my entire life, and finally embracing it in the mid-1990s--after realizing that corporate America can never love me than I love myself--is that I do things for ME now. It's not that I do not love those who surround my life, but when I do something "else" at this point in my brief terrestrial history, it's the "else" that makes me feel whole.

When we as a culture of human beings realize that doing something "else" should not be for reasons of public community, or even private familial approval, then we'd probably all be much happier doing our own "else" and staying out of everyone "else's" business.

That's MY rap, blessin's 2 ya,
cynth'ya

P.S. Celebrate you.