Day 13: Missed

In many tower blocks, there is no floor 13. In many airlines don't have a row 13 either. Not they are officially superstitious, but that passengers have expressed a desire not to sit there, so they skip from 12 to 14.

Somewhat dramatic. I'm not this weird-eyed

I did not post yesterday (day 13). I don't think it was anything to do with bad luck, though the post that didn't make it into the world might disagree. I'm not missing it out, as such, but sitting it up on the shelf until the inevitable day when I'm feeling well prolific, or have too many topics to talk about. I'll retrospect it. If we're lucky, I'll travel through time. 


I'm feeling saucer-eyed with weird at the moment, and not quite where I want to be. Quite not. It's not an excuse - the point of this blog is to worship whatever is, to "bless what there is for being". What there was last night was sleep. What there is now is about to be the same. 

That's more like it

It is, though, a good time to write. When things are really that way out. When things look like they're in need of repair and they can't possibly be used until they're fixed. 

In fact, the usage is the 'fixing'. I suspect that when I properly accept this truth: that there is nothing to fix, nothing to shun, nothing to reject being with - then my life will take a very different shape. 

Not because 'things' will stop happening; not because perfection will finally have landed at my door, but because that's kind of the point. Shut-downness today: thank you. Challenge: take a seat. Irritation: can I interest you in a biscuit? (I never have the right biscuits for Irritation. This fact drives him mad). 

Once that's down, it's all just movement and dancing.