Friday to You, Friday to Me

the sun came
out
and
big baby that I am
i am happier
now that
i am
warmer

National November Writing Month
continues,
la, la
another 3000 words

Someone else doing this
and her reasons it's a useful
deal
at Klosekraft nyc blogchick

a piece of today's

Therapy as hints and suggestions for a little shift here, a little option there. Milton Erickson sending people on hikes up Squaw Peak. To get a larger view. To use their big muscles. The breathe real air and connect with Earth.

“When’s the last time you been to the Overlook Hike, Ronnie?”

“Do I look like I need a camp counselor?”

She waits. The smart ass answer is, ‘Yes,’ and she’s wondering what the answer will be if she slows down, waits and really looks.

Slow down she tells herself.

Slow down, she tells him, inside. Who knows if he is listening. It would be wonderful if he would listen to the quiet secret voice she sends out. Sometimes to clients. Sometimes to friends. Sometimes to troubled and needy folks around the world.

Soldiers in Iraq. Iraqis in Iraq. Women if Africa and the rough cities of America. Hungry children. Species on the verge of extinction, having no idea that they are their kind are about to be the last.

A wish for peace and fairness in the world sweeps over her.

“You look worried and afraid, Ronnie. What can you tell me about what you’d like to have happen today.”

“I want a better Elaine.”

“Can’t do.”

“I want her to shut up with her criticism and blaming and complaining.”

“Can’t do.”

“What the hell can you do?”