Friday, January 26, 2018

Moved to Question...

This whole "not having an out of the house" job thing has freed up a lot of my time. I've baked bread, cookies, brownies, and cooked bourbon chicken with rice, meatloaf with potatoes, the most succulent venison roast with veggies (which became hash the next morning), and Dak Kang Jeung with Japchae. (I think I've put on 20 lbs.) I've cleaned my house, actually disposed of boxes (and if you know me, this is a HUGE step), and smudged my house. I've sat and written. Not on the series which I'm not ready to delve back into, but I've used writing prompts and written about 2000 words on something that just cried to be written.




I'm not one to turn movies on while I write because I think they are distracting. However, the other day, I needed something...I can't explain it, but I needed. I began the Netflix surf. I went through my list and found nothing that cried out to me. So, I began to simply browse. That is when I found this movie. It's called "Peace, Love, and Misunderstanding." It called out to me, so I thought "What the hell?" I turned it on and I got lost in this movie. Enough so that I started it over when it ended. I cried so hard. Not sure why, but it spoke to my gypsy soul. Of course, this made me begin to question the universe. It's a movie about a conservative daughter who was raised by a hippie mother, moves away, then returns home to find herself.

See, if you've read my posts or know me personally, you know my father was a Vietnam veteran. He despised Jane Fonda and, even more so, the hippie movement. How on earth did he end up with a daughter who, while I may not necessarily agree with Jane's politics, thinks Jane is an amazing actress? Nevermind, the gypsy soul that resides in my body. He and I had several interesting conversations throughout my life. We didn't always agree politically, but he listened. I mean, really listened to my beliefs and feelings. I like to think I made him a little more liberal, but let's be honest, that was never going to happen. He did learn to love incense but hated the patchouli oil I would wear. He laughed at my "rocks" (crystals) and my use of herbs and oils to heal. But he never put me down for them. "I fought a war so you could believe however you need to believe," he'd say.




Loving a hard-headed veteran is my destiny. It just is the way the universe leads me. And being on a liberal arts campus...well, I find I'm not as liberal as some. I'm one of those people who are enlightened but needs to have two feet on the ground. I trust the universe to send me what I need, but I need to take care of me, too. I can't depend on the universe to do all the work, ya know? My gypsy soul gets so misunderstood and confused sometimes. However, I'm too much my father's daughter. I need that balance of conservative and liberal. But if we're not moved to question things, then why are we here? 

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