Idol Hands in the Cancer Workshop

I don't know man, these idol hands, you gotta watch out how far inside your head you can go when you have way too much time on your hands.

You have to think.

You have to feel.

You have to evaluate.

You have to grieve.

You have to face it.

It's like damn groundhog's day, you just keep going over it again and again and again.

I suppose it's different for everyone, the things you mull like Fall cider; mine is a rich potpourri baby.

You gotta deal with stuff when your life as you knew it stops, when your calendar has been cleared for you, and when your energy level just won't let you run from your shit anymore.  Damn, hello, caught up with me, eh?  Fine.  Sit down.  I'm listening.

This is what happens people when you aren't busy rushing around avoiding your stuff.

You take a hard look at your life.  and yourself.  Hello Self.  Meet Self.  Hello.  "Do you like my hat?" Remember that from "Go Dogs Go?"  Love that book.

You start sorting out the piles of Keep, Donate or Trash - the metaphorical ones and the people ones.  That's what I've been up to. Whole days of conversations with myself, sorting, sorting, sorting.  I have to watch myself like a hawk or else a bunch of things and beings that should be in the Trash pile are in the Keep.  I have to really watch myself cause I'm tricky that way.

I think tomorrow I should take a day off and just play.  Take a stay-cation from all this hard hard work my former blond brain and my soul has been doing on itself.

I need to play.

Wanna play with me?