2/1/26 - 2/11/26: Electro-Spin telepathy.

2/1/26

There’s a ride at Six Flags called the Electro-Spin that sends people through a freely rotating orbit as its arms flip upside down and all around. Life has had a similarly free-for-all, whirligig type feeling to it, and I need a break. A cuddle with a cat I don’t have yet and some electrolytes would probably help. 

 

2/8/26

I recently started taking pictures of the various 'free' signs people put up. For a miscellaneous pile of junk, for nothing in a box where there once was something, for lemons. Free is free. But also, what is free? I really love freedom, and I love how deeply laden with meaning it is. It’s beautiful and it’s frightening. It’s inspiring and it’s fragile. It has a million songs of meaning sewn into its heart.

 

2/9/26

I’ve been thinking a lot about how change is scary, and how that will remain a constant in life, regardless of how old and decrepit I get. Not just the big changes but also those little habits. I’ve had a weekly reminder in my calendar for a Zumba class at my local library for awhile now. I’ve had a knitting group meetup in there too, and a million other things I know would benefit me and that I want to try but that I keep putting off. It took forever just to add pottery and swimming into my life. If I choose not to judge myself too harshly, the observation would be that I take things slow. “Slow is okay, right?” I ask myself. “Yes, slow is okay,” I respond.  

I threw on the wheel on my own, outside of a classroom setting, for the first time. It was a quiet moment that felt stupendous. A calming moment that felt like a gigantic step for me. I didn’t feel the need to document it. I ate sour strips afterward and bought a burrito. 

2/11/26

My mom’s been watching the monks that have been on a lengthy peace walk to Washington D.C. They walk with a dog named Aloka who has a marking on their head that’s in the shape of a heart.

 

 

I ended my nerikomi clay class yesterday and it was one of those classes I wish was all year round. I lingered a bit for nerdy clay conversation afterward, and actually said bye to folks in the class, which I usually don’t do. I realize I normally opt for Irish goodbyes because saying goodbye is an acknowledgement of something ending, and I don’t like the concept of an end. It feels too immobilized and drastic as a concept. I reframe an end as part of the river of change we’re all either swimming in or drowning in. “River of change” may be the dorkiest set of words on the face of the planet, but it’s apt for what time actually is. 

I think one of the silliest Reddit threads I was recently reading was about being able to tell whether or not someone’s thinking about you. I’m fearless in my stupidity when I’m online. But who doesn’t love random people essentially discussing telepathy at length? I can’t seem to get enough.