L'action de merci

Happy (American) Thanksgiving!

I've been thinking about continuing with my gratitude journal.
I think that many people might argue that being thankful only once a year might not be conducive to being happy all the time.
Does it necessarily follow that being thankful every day of every year will lead to more happiness?
According to one robust source, it can.

A funny dilemma spurred this blog post. On the one hand, the above source mentions reduced materialism as a positive side effect of keeping a gratitude journal. On the other, I need to locate or buy a new gratitude journal to write in; this makes me wonder if I'm being materialistic by offloading my gratitude journal to my blog.

You and I might know that I promise things in writing that I don't often follow through on. If you look back at some of my posts, some of them ancient, some of them recent, you will have a hard time finding patterns. That's because I'm constantly reinventing myself, and I'm thankful that I have the time to pretty much compose whatever I want, whenever I want whilst my basic living expenses are paid for - for the most part - by my nuclear family.

Alors aujourd'hui, pour l'action de grâce américaine, je remercis les ainés dans ma vie, et j'exprime de la gratitude pour le fait que j'ai un emplacement quasi-sacré où je peux m'exprimer sans être attaqué par des gens que je ne connais pas.

Since I'm 99% canadian, it's difficult for me to speak about a holiday that I don't really relate to. So I will continue to write about my daily life, and in doing so, I hope you will be inspired to, mayhaps, take up writing as a hobby.

Medicontemplate

I dread meditation. I really do. I've read hundreds of pages about it and I still dread the word. Notwithstanding the fact that I practice it on a semi-regular basis - usually in the mornings (because the elders tell me it's easier to do it then), it's just too mainstream for me to feel cool about it.
I prefer not to think about it because I fear that I will mess up a tradition that sounds an awful lot like the word "medication".

Have you taken your meditation today, Mr. Ghoule?
No, I'm afraid not.
Oh? Why not?
My back hurts like mad, goddamn you, and all these chairs are made for either older or shorter people.
Just follow your breath!
Yeah, but my diaphragm is weak because of all the -cold substances- that were drawn in by it and my throat is sore from all the anti-meditative states I find myself in and, furthermore, the echoing voices I constantly cannot ignore do not care about what I see; they only care about what I feel.
Just let the breath flow naturally.
-_- 

---

I can't believe people get paid to instruct people how to breathe.

Souvenirs day of it

I walked - that's a given.
J'ai marché - c'est sûr et certain.

J'ai trouvé un évènement dans le magazine NOW: une marche guidée à Toronto pour se rappeler du "Women's Mounted Land Army, 1919". J'ai découvert que cette marche se passait dans mon coin, et, en 15 minutes (ou moins), j'ai décidé de m'y rendre tout habillé en mode hiver et... rien.

Personne. Well, there were people, and it seemed like a walker might have been there for said event, but she continued on her way. There was a backpacker, with patchouli backpacks and a movable plus-sized basket, but he continued along the way.

Je ne regrettes pas m'y être rendu car la neige était follement douce, et marcher comme un pinguin m'a fait du bien.

I'll make my way out of the labyrinth

Inspired by Firewind

Dutifully, I searched for a band starting with the name and, rather, the letter D. Stream-of-consciousness makes me feel like I must keep going forwards, but the lack of english of the anglo kind makes it difficult for me to feel safe online - and offline - any more. Speaking, I mean, writing of/about mores, I am questioning my choice to stick to a sociological inquiry of society.

A clerical use of paragraphical grammar makes it easy for me to claim that I know how to write. I refuse to cite sounds. I refuse to cite sights. I refuse to cite optics, and I refuse to cite memory. How will Broca's area survive the lattice?

Find out next time on another renaming of A kaleidoughscope of writings, the first time, ladies and gentlemen (now it gets difficult), that I refuse to bow down to people that sound like machines.

No more pretending to be a king, no more princes then.

Give yourself up

Only positive things!
Fire and faerie, it’s awesome to be in a 2019 society.
The music is practically free when you take the time to find and appreciate its artistry, and I have access to safe medicinal plants. It’s gratifying being here and appreciating what I live with.

I make chocolate. It’s great: I buy it, and then I add coconut oil, and then I freeze it. It’s calming and grounding to craft time up in the kitchen, the beautiful place where I live to eat, and the chocolate turns out great because I spend time thinking about what I am doing in said kitchen.

I had a good day with a good amount of sunshine. With less yelling, I can listen with softer ears.

Too much tiletwitch

You know what? I’ll just insert some random pic to enable a return to the past in the future. Am I tired of writing, am I exhausted, or am I captivated too often by the bright lights? All good questions worthy of their own time limits, I suppose.