FYI to all ugly-media lovers…that “publicist” I was allegedly flipping off was one of my closest friends and if you had any insight into my personal life, you’d know that I would never seriously behave that way and I do have a very sarcastic sense of humor… twas all in good fun, note the shots of us laughing while it was happening. They’ll turn whatever they can to make a good story I know but I’m a human being who isn’t ashamed of having a dry sense of humor, my apologies if anyone is offended by that but know, my friend certainly was not! Much love X
Waves of Boredom
Boredom comes in waves.
I’m scared of waves and up until recently have always been scared of boredom.
I used to feel boredom crash into me like four-footers at high-tide.
Anxiety would fill me and quickly rise higher until I’d finally feel it break and take me down into the undertow.
Thoughts of what I could be doing, should be doing, but currently was not doing, violently swirling around me.
Unable to catch my breathe, clear my head.
I’d fear it’d never end and I’d be lost in swirling thoughts of boredom forever.
But I’ve now realized, even the worst waves pass.
All waves do, eventually.
The calmer you stay while they’re happening, the easier it is to bear them until they pass.
Now boredom still comes in waves,
But they’re the slow, rippling kind.
The ones that never break.
That slowly rise and gradually sink back down to stillness like they were never there.
The kind that calmly carry you until they fade and, before you realize, are gone.
I’ve now realized boredom, like so many other things in life, will always come in waves… whether I like it or not…but it’s in my control to decide what kind of waves they will be.
I could continue to panic every time one came because I chose to see a four-footer coming at me…
Or I could ride the slow ripple and embrace the art of being bored from time to time.
Like mama always says, this too shall pass.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had a fascination with native american spirituality and its creative expression. Growing up in Canada, we were taught about the beginnings of Inukshuit sculptures, rock carvings, and the many other artistic means of storytelling that originated with the Inuit people who founded our country. If ya don’t know what I’m rallying about, take a look!
I’ve had a dream catcher hanging over my bed ever since I can remember. My dad used to buy these beautiful and intricate ones on his business trips as gifts for me and now that I’m all grown up, I still can’t imagine a good night’s sleep without one. I’ve never been a great sleeper, so I suppose believing there’s something there watching over you to filter out the negative dreams is comforting. It doesn’t hurt that they so damn stunning to look at either.
I brought one out with me from home, in Toronto, and decided to start expanding my collection now that I’m in a big-girl apartment on my own. We could all use a little more positive energy in our lives, right? :)