Monday, October 05, 2009

balloons drifting out of my head.

Have I thought about all the things i need to think about today? I thought about plane tickets, and about hippies with low pony tails, and about cuticle cream, and how I'd like to meet the inventor of cuticle cream. Not because I need some (though I do). Just because I bet he has an interesting story. A story about a wife with bad cuticles. And he told her they were bad and she did not appreciate it one bit. So he invented this cream, and frankly, she didn't appreciate that either. But he made a lot of money and bought her a ridiculous wrinkly dog, and when she saw the dog with a bow on it's head, she forgot about the source of their riches, and when her husband made insensitive comments, she found comfort in her pup, who never commented on her cuticles.

And I've thought about China and about washing my hair, and I've thought about being lonely and scared, and I thought about the mountains and resting in them. And I thought about swimming in my mind.

And I thought about how I wish I had someone to walk with at the lake, and how God satisfies desires of all things. And about writing this versus not writing this, and about how long past the due date you can eat turkey (I might should have thought more about that).

And only now at 9:57 pm am I getting to the tiny light flecks that some people have in their eyes, to the word "berry"-- a nice little word that sounds quite like what it is. And to hospitals with people saying hello and goodbye, for a long time. And about how my dad hugs me so tight sometimes, and doesn't let go till after I do. (If you are a dad with a daughter who is grown, which you probably are not, because no dads read this blog that I know of, please continue to hug your daughter very tightly. I promise you, to her breathing is less important. Hug her tight enough, and then tighten a bit more. Good.)

And I'm thinking about truth that sets me free, that allows me to live on a plane just an inch or so above the earth. Only an inch, but it makes such an incredible difference. The difference between anxiety and joy, between pressure and peace, between selfishness and love.

I was asked today if I think too much. As long as there keeps being so much to think about, I've at least got to try to keep up.

2 comments:

Brent said...

Excuse me, ma'am. But I'm a dad with an 18-year-old daughter who hugs (our version is "with a grunt" which we add at the end of a hug) as often as she'll let me. And, as a neo-hippie who still wears a low pony-tail, well, I read your blog and check daily.

Why?

Because you're pretty much awesome.

The end.

Katherine said...

Well Miss Powder-Pants, I think you're just about the coolest thing since cuticle cream. I'm glad you've decided to continue thinking. Please continue writing what you're thinking because it makes me want to think and write and eat raspberries (my favorite of all the berries).