What Looks Like Crazy....

[Cynthia Gentry]

Monday, January 2, 2012

My friend PK pulled out an old evening bag for New Year's Eve and it it she found the program from when Al and I got married on January 20, 2007. On the program was the quote from Pearl Cleage's book of the same name, "What looks like crazy on an ordinary day, shines a lot like love in the moonlight." I love that quote, just as I loved the book. I love my husband, too. Hard to believe it has been five years - hard to believe it has only been five years. 

It's 8:45 and the world is still on holiday today. I need to start my year today. Maxed out on chocolate last night for absolutely no reason whatsoever, other than the house was full of folks in their cups and I finished knitting the gift for my friend Morgan. I'm throwing out the rest of the chocolate today. And looking at my addiction to chocolate...or is it an addiction to not feeling? Whatever. 

I'm still sitting in bed. I've had my coffee and half a bagel with natural peanut butter. Yum. I had my brain all set for the day and then I went off on a tangent and lost it. Where was I? Reminder to self: this year is about committing to getting things done. What's on my plate: the Chastain Park playground, International Play Association board stuff (and US Board, too), Play Rights Magazine, and the Year of Living Playfully Campaign. Oh, sheesh. That's a lot. OK. I can do this stuff. AM I going to do this stuff? 

Take it back to the core. Breathe. Listen to the dog (Zoey) breathe beside me. Vision: children of all ages and abilities running, laughing, digging, building, climbing, imagining. The quiet one sits under the small arch and puts toys on the "shelves" created by the rugged stone. The wild one climbs up the rope ladder that rises with the hill. The different children find different things to love and to claim as their own.

At night in bed when they hear they are going to the playground tomorrow their minds start dancing through the magic in the moonlight. 

OK, breathe on that for a moment. I'm tensing up. I'm nervous. Scared to get up and be overwhelmed by how much there is to do...none of which gets done when I sit here with my head in the sand. 

This is like writing morning pages. Crazy, core dump. Maybe it will get me somewhere.