life by number

If we were having coffee, I’d probably invite someone else along. That’s the mood I’m in today, though that particular characteristic is my second worst socializing trait. I like to invite others along. Unless I’m specifically asked for one-on-one time, I can make even just a cup of coffee into a barn party with just a few clicks and swipes.

Someone should really take this phone away from me.

My first worst socializing trait is my tendency to add a question mark of possibility to finite plans. You want to meet for tea today? Great, we’re set. Oh, did you say today because you thought I was free? Because I’m free tomorrow, too. Also, did you say tea because you’re worried that I’m drinking too much coffee? I’m not, I’ve dialed it way back. Did you say tea because you forgot that you wanted to try that juice place around the corner? Or were you just really feeling tea today? Did I want to change the plans? No, I was just asking.

I really was just asking.
Someone should take these question marks away from me.

They say a curious mind is a sign of great intelligence, but I wonder about a curious mind unfed.
Mine is unfed.

I’ve suddenly realized that the last two years of my life have put living on hold.

I think it’s a good thing that I’ve wake up to it, shaken out of it. It’s time to see animals and walk on beaches. It’s time to count the stars.

I saw the moon last night, or the night before.
She was full.
A curious being, fed.
A curious being, glowing.

I’ve lost my glow along with about a million other things, but I don’t have time to count losses when there are so many wins that need tallying.

I like to count.
I like life to count.
I like to give myself the things I like.

So I’d invite a friend to join us for coffee. Maybe I’d invite someone who could be a friend. Maybe I’d invite someone who once was a great friend, but their heart got caught on one of those stars I’m so fond of counting.

You can invite them, but of course, most can only make it back when the star falls, and their wishes come true. It’s an odd-shaped truth that most wishes take us back to where we were, in some way or another.

I’m a little bit funny about odd-shaped truths. I like to leave them where I found them, and then count all the many times I stumble upon them again.

I like to count.

_______________________

What do you do when you’re feeling depleted of input in?

30 Comments

      1. It’s a position rather than a number but it’s somewhat numerical.

        I adore certain numbers but I’m hopeless with them.

        The numbers which I like best and count most, are PEOPLE, and I think it’s wonderful that you act as a catalyst for community being started, threads of connection being made, and conversations had. THAT is life, lived.

        As to reigniting? People. I people. That eventually does the trick. The beach helps a little, but it’s the humans which make the biggest difference.

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Depletion, for me, comes in the form of being OVER social. Recovery, for me, comes in the form of retreat. So this means my life by number is… 1. As in 1 person at a time works best for me.

    Liked by 5 people

  2. A curious mind unfed is a dangerous thing – caged parrot pulling out its wings comes to mind. Lately, I’ve been more in need of outputting, of slowing down, though I would so enjoy joining you and your friend(s) to coffee or tea.

    Liked by 4 people

  3. RaRa,

    I know what you mean by throwing options out semi-compulsively…I sort of see an outing as a possibility in motion too sometimes. It can drive people a little nuts though…I think the key is to enlist an adventurous person or two first and let things bubble. If you’re the solo bubbler it’s harder. Balance this out with “just letting yourself be dragged along” once in a while – it’s nice to just drift at times. I’ve found the best coasting with depth requires being on my own.

    RR

    Liked by 1 person

  4. When I am feeling depleted I run off (literally) or paddle off or walk away or drive. And if I can’t do that I try to smell people I love. Wishing you a chance to run (or paddle or fly) to the moon or an opportunity to smell someone who you love (and who loves you back just as brightly.) (P.S. The people I love smell like wet dog or green apple shampoo tonight, in case you would like to share their smells, too.)

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I create. & When my mind is so drained & drowning in sorrow or [insert whatever negative emotion here] that I can’t create, I seek out love – or things that remind me of love.

    *hugs*
    You still glow girl. Sometimes we just need to dust ourselves off to see it.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I commune with nature to remind me what is truly real and what’s important. It’s so healing. I like one on one, but small gatherings are nice too. Good to know that with you one should make sure. πŸ™‚ Love you sweet Ra. xoxo

    Liked by 1 person

  7. These days I curl up with a book. It’s not the best thing to do – better would be a walk with my dog, or to do something creative … but it’s not the worst. The worst I do, when I’m weary down to my bones – as has happened lately – is sit down for just one game of sudoku. Or tetris. Or sudoku, then tetris, then sudoku, then a couple more tetris, then…

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Honestly, I try to help others. I’m finding that my own ‘voice’ really doesn’t say much of anything… but there are so many of those here who are saying all sorts of wonderful things… so I share! I am not sure if it does much good, but it does help me feel a little bit better. I really need to write up my post about numbers that I keep meaning to write. Anyhoo, since I don’t drink coffee, or tea… and I really shouldn’t have juice… I guess I’ll have some water? I am such a boring duckeroo, lol.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. So odd, I didn’t think I was putting myself down… It’s more, hmm, I think it’s okay to be the person that shares. Like it’s an important job, one that everyone could do but most don’t — so someone has to do it. I also think I’m pretty good at it.

        I’m like one of the background crew in film, they all perform import functions that are needed to make the film but they are never seen on screen or have the glory that being a star does but they are important just the same.

        I’m not going to stop blogging or anything, that’s still going to happen. I just like to share a lot too! πŸ™‚

        Liked by 4 people

  9. Yes, you had a pause button clicked on you a couple years ago. You weren’t supposed to have a year of grieving either. That was certainly unplanned. πŸ˜₯ I suppose, if we were having coffee, or tea, or whatever liquidy thing you wanted to have, I would tell you that the past couple of years have kind of seen you in a cocoon of sorts. Coping. Hurting. Healing. Growing. Changing. I suspect you’re not really aware of how much you’re going to shine when you fully emerge. It can be scary, yes, but I think you’re going to really like the new way that things will be. You haven’t lost your glow. Not at all. It’s just changed color a little. And yes, you count. *hugs*

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I go for a walk. I often find my mind starts to wander that way and by the time i’m back i’m feeling refreshed, creative, optimistic. When I do these challenges I can find myself walking alone for hours at a time. Your body hits autopilot and before you know it you aren’t on the muddy path.. your thoughts are taking you elsewhere, anywhere.

    I’d invite friends to meet up one on one, although i’m okay in groups these days. I have more than a few friends caught on their stars. They wouldn’t be able to make it back if I invited them, but I hope they find their odd-shaped dreams all the same.

    Have you ever met one of those people that exude positive energy from every pore? They’re just full to bursting with life. As soon as you you meet them they pick you up and spin you around and you find yourself swept along in their orbit.

    Even when they’re not talking to you, but you see them from across the room, you can see the invisible magic of their animated, excitement spreading out to those around them.

    I have. (Spoiler alert: you’re one of them)

    You haven’t lost your glow at all. It’s just too bright for you to see.

    Liked by 3 people

  11. As a self-proclaimed cave dweller, I can only take so much crowd time. There are those occasions where crowd time becomes my heartbeat, like serving my homeless friends on Saturdays. Other events where I am expected to be civilized don’t work well. Guess it’s that wild child in me …

    Liked by 1 person

  12. You’re a beautiful writer – I’ve been feeling rather depleted and soul-weary lately, and so much of what you’ve written here speaks to me.

    I usually find that simple things – good food, good company, some art, doing things that make me happy (like watching films, dancing, reading, etc) fill me up when I’m feeling depleted. Yet lately I’m in a bit of a reading rut, where nothing seems to hold my attention for long. In times like these I focus on self-care – doing things for myself, and also paying attention to what I truly want to do. I’ve also been considering putting time aside each week for an ‘artist date’ where you take yourself out once a week to do something fun or culture related! πŸ™‚ Sometimes adding novelty and change to life really helps.

    You’re doing great things! I loved your videos by the way – the subtitles were cleared up by Bradley and it was great to be able to follow everything ❀

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Depleted. Well that does happen when I have given all I got and there are still needs looking at me to see what I will do. Sort of like my dog sits down in front of me and stares with those soulful eyes until he gets a treat or a belly rub. When I really don’t have anything left inside I take a hot bath and a nap. If that doesn’t work I go to the library and mindlessly browse the magazines. I always love your posts. Reading your blogs helps fill the empty.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Whomever you invite, if they’re a friend of yours, I’m sure they’re a friend of mine. Every weekend I abandon the internet in lieu of real life… 2 to 3 days, I don’t even check my emails. My phone has no camera, nor does it have connectivity. The stars are pregnant with light, I can see that light in you too.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. “I’ve lost my glow along with about a million other things, but I don’t have time to count losses when there are so many wins that need tallying.”

    I wanted to say – No! Of course you haven’t lost your glow – because, for you, that’s impossible. Your glow couldn’t be lost.. And then I felt that comment was wrong – this is how you feel.. I shouldn’t tell you your feelings are wrong. My intent is to lift you up.. to let you know how much I value your writing and you.

    (psst… your glow really is too bright to fade… in my opinion.)

    Wish I could have been at some of your book readings – would have loved to see you read your words in person – live.

    ❀

    Liked by 1 person

  16. It depends on the sort of depletion. Sometimes I need people and other times I need to herm. (We coined a new verb, to herm, from the word hermit, as my community has a sister who is a part-time hermit.) If I’m herming, then it’s music and books and knitting or crochet and possibly TV.

    Otherwise, meeting people and having tea or hot chocolate – I really can’t drink coffee – is generally a really good thing.

    Like

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