Mixing Methaphors

Ah Wednesday … you’ve come into this poor wee cottage, a gentle light quietly waking me out of a dream that saw the character of Sheldon Cooper destroying my prized Oxford English dictionary, then following me around a crowded ferry trying to apologise.

I couldn’t understand why the guy who ripped my dictionary to bits wanted to hug me so badly. What a dick.

Moving on …


Not quite ready for the day, I could oh so tuck myself back under the covers and sneak in a morning nap, as if on holiday. But that is not to be had. There’s work to be done. Meetings to attend. A world to explore in the news. Britain to keep an eye on as the PM stirs the Brexit cauldron today with a dramatic request for the Queen.


Me … I’m still skipping along this yellow brick highway. Gleefully so. The only part suffering is my noticeably absent daily blog entries.

Not floating in the least, my feet are firmly grounded and my vision is clear. I’m not bound for Oz, I’m off to see about a future. And it’s been a long time since I’ve been on one of these … a forward moving path filled with possibilities of my own making.

Happy. Intellectual. Safe. Those are my Tin Man, Scarecrow and Lion. My travelling companions as we ease on down the road. What a quartet we make.


The Past has not been forgotten, it’s just not welcomed. Neither is Indulgence. So, instead, I left them curb-side somewhere over that last hill … in good company amongst the others of their kind.

I miss them not.


When my mind wanders into the mechanics of this journey, I take a deep breath and remind myself that centred in the middle of my chest is Faith, acting as my third eye. And with that my brain lets go of patterns and construction … and is enamoured by shiny objects off in the distance.

Image result for third eye faith

Which makes me smile and gives me something more productive to think about.

Cheers.

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