movie night (and thoughts)

To reward myself for staying on target and getting done what needed done, I took myself to the movies. Two, to be precise; The Lightning Theif and (or all things) Valentines’ Day.  The theater damn near killed us with “chic flick” trailers before finally showing the second movie. The first, alas, was nigh forgettable. Don’t get me wrong, all the actors were quite serious and seemed very caught up in the reality they were creating; it just didn’t absorb me. The second movie was surprisingly well done; evocative, poignant, humanistic, and managed it all without getting smarmy.

Between the two, an unexpected email that tugged once more on an old and rusty chain. I cannot quite decide why I remain so curious, nor why they seem so convinced I’m dangerous. The thought makes me laugh…. but also sigh. Some patterns just seem impossible to unmake; I suppose that would anger me were I not hip-deep in transitioning out of acceptance and into equanimity for it.

Shifting back and forth with thoughts and letting them lead as they will. Not quite a ramble, but close. I find evocative movies nourish me, though most times in odd ways. Something about poignancy and saudade; sadness that isn’t sad to me, even as it seems so on surface. The analogy of dripping wax rises and I point out that dripping wax seems cool, but it is the molten core that carries it forward. Somewhere in the attic, a chuckle for the ever-present symbol. I wonder if I will truly manage to burn brightly until truly extinguished. I think so. Stars, I hope so.

Tomorrow, the new semester starts and with it, the first of my core classes. I am hopeful there are no Monday assignments, but since every semester has started with them, I suspect I’ll soon check the calendar and see if I can pre-craft the inevitable introductions (at least they start out the same).

Heh. Bounce, bounce, bounce, rattle and then, bounce some more. My mind is like a rubber ball tonight. La Brea is burbling and I have no idea what’s on the way up, but it feels nice; contemplative in that empty way that seems most often to herald some insight or lesson.

Mindfully, I do not look forward.

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