Feeding Frenzy.

Some musings to follow up from my last post, regarding Go where you're fed.

Well, I haven't made my list yet of all the things I'd do for free just because I love them. I kind of let all that stuff go for a bit, what with all the holiday performances, and then home & re-rooted for Christmas. Honestly, since the idea bouncing with Erin and chat with Stefan, I have been in quite a joyous flow and haven't felt burdened at all with my need to discover what I love, and where I need to be, location-wise. Funny.

Then, just a few days ago, this idea popped into my mind - perhaps the place I need to go to be fed is an inward journey. Stefan-the-guardian-Angel, Is that what you meant? Hmmm ... Go where you're fed? So -- go to and into the flow, into the inner wisdom that is ALWAYS and FOREVER with me, a visit I can take at any time, NO MATTER WHAT. I'm thinking, no, I'm knowing that in these past few weeks, since the conversations I wrote about in my last post, I've been doing what has felt good and right, and being fed right there - right WHERE I WAS. I'm fed through the happiness I choose as mine NO MATTER WHAT I'm DOING or WHEREVER I AM. (sorry for all these caps, I just need to emphasize it for myself :o).

I've developed a brand new kind of hunger. More soon.

Go where you're Fed (let it be Free)

Last night before a concert in Seattle, I was speaking with my friend Stefan. We were talking about cities in the U.S. and what could be a good place for a creative songwriter like me to live.

He said "go where you're fed". 

Not " move to blah blah blah, it's an Awesome place!" or "go here, I know 5 dozen people there who will make you famous".

Go where I'm fed? Uggh. Of course, now a new handful of questions arise - What's feeding me? Who's feeding me? And where are they? What exactly DO I do and where will it be nourished? 

But I know Stefan, and I'm most likely wasting some good brain and heart-space on questions. Because I bet his question was probably a little spiritual and philosophical and a nudge in my direction that I should go within. I think I need to let the idea of "go where you're fed" settle, spread out, find nooks and crannies and lodge itself to a place where it might grow a bit and discover itself.  

What's ironic is that in recent months, I've come to a greater sense of who I am and what I want, but I'm completely blank when it comes to this "go where you're fed" thing. I'm now not even sure just what exactly in me desires feeding.  

Let me add another little nugget - last night before I spoke with Stefan, my friend Erin posed this question: "what would you do in your life, even if you didn't get paid to do it?".  

Are these two kidding me? 

OK, the things that I'm doing now in my life, do I love them enough to do them for free?

What exactly AM I doing in my life? I don't know.  And that's OK because all this question stuff is allowing me a turnaround opportunity.  Sometimes in life, we do what we're doing and we never have the opportunity to stop, step back and view in.  What are we doing? And are we really loving what we're doing? And are we living in a physical space and an emotional space that feeds us? And would we do it for free because it feeds our hearts so much? 

Maybe I can start a list - a list of things I'd do for free because I love them so much I can't see straight. And when things start to get clearer, I bet I'll be led to the place that's feeding me.

What a meal that one will be. Yum. I'm ordering an appetizer.

ImmobilEmotion

Today there are no December flurries floating 'round my head, but a pack of wild, seemingly negative emotions flurry-ing 'round my heart, and my head, and outpicturing as wet little raindrops falling from my eyes. 

Even harder than being the participant and witness to my wet flurry attack is wondering afterwards why it's so hard to know if my emotions are directing me anywhere ... I mean honestly, what is their point?

They're like the roundabouts in Seattle, taking me in small diameter-ed circles but I guess eventually, I'll find the left or right swerve that'll quickly move me to the next path.  I gotta tell you, though, right now I'm dizzy and stagnant and undefined by my last emotional attack. And in some weird way, I feel less like me and tired of the whole darned thing. 

I often give them so much power; I allow them to dictate what is the reality of any given situation, and they make me say and do things that I'm not proud of after-the-fact.  I wish I could know in the moment to make them be just be what they are: a heart-compass, an outlet, a way to stay immobile and safe until I can move into and through a change, or a disappointment.

So I didn't manage the situation the way I thought I should ... what am I gonna do? Right now, I think it's ok to be housebound after this storm. I suppose I could use it as an opportunity to get cozy, eat some chocolate and wait 'til the sun pokes through.

Oh, and about Love ...

it's my Oxygen.

Digitally Enhanced Thoughts.

It came to me, a notion of how super-advanced our editing capabilities are today.  We can swifty and almost mindlessly edit videos, emails, songs, Facebook entries, Word docs and "Twits" (is that what we do on Twitter?). But when it comes to my thoughts, I figure, at the rate they've been entertaining my life all these years, I've somehow regressed to a recording studio circa 1970 - sing sing sing (thought thought thought), record, splice splice and forever splicing miles of reel-to-reel tape. Wait! Does that make me a "Splice Girl"? Sorry, that was easy.  Anyhow, no wonder I don't have a minute to process and absorb any of the relevant information passing through my brain waves.  I'm always operating from the cutting room floor instead of the wave file which is so easily nudged left or right, cleaned up with the move of a mouse. Now, some of this imagery may not compute to those of you who haven't been in the recording studio, or who aren't computer savvy, but my point is this: if I were able to edit my thoughts in a way that doesn't discount them (or delete them), spend minimal time listening back and reviewing, I could end up with a real concise piece of information - what I choose to do with that information is entirely up to me - but at least there isn't so much editing process (milling over and over ... and over) in my poor tired little brain.  And the bonus is that I can file away that digitally edited nugget in a sweet little folder.  Probably never to be seen or heard of again, but at least the process power was way worth it.