Habituated

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This 80s dress has a plethora of charming details… the waist tie at the side, random tiny triangles with the decade’s seemingly requisite teal-colored flair, flutter capsleeves, three round plastic buttons on the shoulder.
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Windy day at the tiny picnic table. The necklace is a favorite: a scorpion encased against a green background.
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The tomato red color, tiny print, and relaxed fit support my more or less conscious daily intention to channel Lady Diana.
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A fancy slip adds occasional interest throughout the activities of the day. Activity being sitting in the sun, eating a raspberry.

I once told a student: “the thing about leaving class early or ignoring the reading is that you never know if you’ll miss something that you would have thought about for the rest of your life.”

As anecdotal back-up, I not only recall, but base much of my thinking, on a fun fact heard in a science class years ago.  That being that the human heart is equipped with an electric charge.  Like lightning, here is a naturally occurring instance of electricity that DOES NOT require plugs, wires, batteries, or any of the sundry trappings of man-made electronic systems.

Amazing in its own right, this fact is replete with possibilities for poetic musing.  I think about our disconnect from the natural world, and that perhaps the urge to regain some actual sense of our unifying center, accounts in part for the immense draw that our electric devices exert upon us.

We are perhaps a heartbroken species, no longer focused on the amazement of existence.  This rose gold rectangle in my hand is familiar in the ubiquity of its fascination.  It is also a screen between the internal sparks of our living state.  Blocked indeed.

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