Atlas Shrugged

This book has been on my to-read shelf for quite a while. Little did I know that Ayn Rand perfectly described anxiety in 1957. On the first page of the book. So that's promising. 

Free Solo

This movie was every bit as stressful and beautiful as you might expect. This is me and my scooter waiting on the ramp outside for Alta to come get me so I didn't have to do snowy steps because, unlike Alex Honnold, I do not like to take unnecessary risks. 

Don't worry, the stark contrast did not go unnoticed in my brain. 

Paper Airplanes

From My, My, My, My, My by Tara Hardy

(You may buy the book here)

Take that thing that happened. To you.
Open it like a concealed rose. Hold it up
to the nose of someone else. Let them
tell you that you still smell sweet. So

sweet. Let that person who loves you pluck
petals out of the gully of your wound. Let
her shave them into points and sail them
back into your heart like paper airplanes.

                       

My little man from years ago and I made paper airplanes together often. I recently purchased small paper airplane temporary tattoos from Spirit Ink  as a way to honor him, recently turned ten years old. And now they can have an extra special meaning. 

Her royal majesty, asleep

When you get a biographical fortune

It's basically a line out of my Meyers Briggs

Shoes

Just a friendly reminder that my dog moves my shoes to wherever she is while I'm at work. Because she needs something to cuddle with. 

A week or so of photos

Gracie facing down the neighborhood emu. 

Forest fire on the left. Clear skies on the right. 

Yoga skeleton 

Wearing the primary colors: black, white, and mustard yellow. 

Staring down the barrel of existential dread

Cate had a hard thing happen one time because people made bad choices. I offered to go with her on a trip to do all the hard things but only in spirit because MONEY DOESN'T GROW ON TREES and what not. But in the course of the conversation, Cate and I decided that we would *theoretically* cope with the terrible things on our fake trip by journaling, talking about life and staring down the barrel of existential doom. 

And sometimes for basically no reason. And sometimes for a reason, life feels like that. You just wake up staring down the barrel and it's all you can do to shove it aside and like, get out of bed. 

And that was today for me. 

Stretchy Lizard Sunning on a Rock

Seen on my walk with the puppy today. 

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Years ago, before the boy who recommended my favorite books married someone else, he told me to read this one over Christmas break. The main character was everything I view myself to be. And there are women of power, grace and pain. A beautiful scene where someone learns to love a child. 

And tonight I watched the movie and I cried three times. It wouldn't have been as good without the book, but it was beautiful and moving and I wanted to text the boy. The one i always counted on my back burner. But I couldn't. And I didn't. And I thought. 

Well isn't that the point? 

Learning to love someone else when you realize the one before wasn't enough?