Monday, August 29, 2011
I have very little patience for blogs. I have to admit I don't know why I'm writing one. Maybe it is the clamoring of the senses to be let out onto the page for a little while, or maybe it is just a desperate attempt to leave some trace, something that says to the outside world "I was here" even if only for a little while.
Elsewhere on SparkPeople I have started a weight loss group for friends, family, and sufferers of schizophrenia and schizoaffective disorder. I named it Butterfly People because butterflies distract and are often unpredictable in their flight patterns. The person afflicted is like a small child entangled in fantasies that flit and lead who knows where.
Here I was thinking more of a set of metaphors I fashioned after a prompt in a book, It's hard to make a difference when you can't find your keys, by Marilyn Paul.
My life is like fingerpainting. Messy, but colorful, and valued simply because it exists.
My heart is a butterfly, dancing with the colors and motion of Mei (in House of Flying
Daggers), no less skillful and beautiful. My feet move to follow my heart.
I am courageous and able, like the martial artist Shu Lien (the platonic interest of monk Li Mu Bai in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). I am able to face each day, in a practical, graceful manner.