1. I get closer to love when I make myself the "center of gravity of my own wellbeing." Over time, I've learned that I can only properly give love to others this way – when I draw energy from the internal state rather than the external one. Because then I am unselfish, I do not fall fearlessly and seek a safety net. I give without qualm, without expectation, without restraint or embarrassment.
2. Everyone has a balance of pragmatism and romanticism. It is only our awareness and conscious editing of the amount we display that makes us who we are. My actions are practical, my thoughts aren't, but isn't that the fun of it?
3. The scars on my legs after that guy ran into me haven‘t healed yet, and now I'm starting to think they never will. When I cross my legs, the skin feels pulled tight across my knee the way canvas is stretched over a painting frame. They aren't large scars and yet I kind of grieve the way the skin on my knees used to be pretty unblemished. This doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, I know, I know. It doesn't even matter about beauty or wholeness or functionality or anything significant, I just kind of miss my normal knees. That's okay to admit too. No one has authority over my small sadnesses anyway.
4. Other sensory things:
Ethiopian the other night: injera (a thick buckwheat crepe) laden with briny vegetables, lentils, stew, beans. You use your hands and scoop it all up. Every mouthful is all-enveloping, all texture. I feel a slow heat right in the center of my chest. I am running across the Schuykill river and every limb feels like it's on fire, but in a good way. My experiences recently have felt very new, unpolished, organic. I have a scarf wrapped around my entire body in an effort to keep warm in the cold. I'm not feeling stagnant anymore, I am feeling ready for growth.