Another year already? Now the mother of a 13-year-old and nearly 21-year- old. My second go round with a teenager.

I’m a half a century plus one; and it seems like I just graduated high school last year. Funny how the mind never quite catches up with the mirror.

I’ve been told that I “don’t act my age”. I’m not sure how a person my age is supposed to act. Why are certain things relegated to the younger crowd? I refuse to take part in that system.

I wear clothes from Hot Topic and Forever 21 (when clearly that was a memo my body didn’t get). I watch shows like Riverdale and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina the Teenage Witch that are geared toward the more hormonal crowd – although as a middle-aged woman I can fully attest to the fact that hormonal fluxes are not ageist.

I read YA fiction, peppered with a good dose of apocalyptic horror and self-help books for good measure. And I like to draw cutesy girls and animals. I dress up at Halloween and I still believe in magic.

That’s who I am. I’m not the number 51, nor am I the ache in my knees when I kneel down in front of the John Green section at Barnes and Noble. I’m not the wild garden of silver that is sprouting from the depths of my scalp, no more than a person with depression is her disease.

I am deeper than a number. Wider than a name. Stronger than an idea.

I am a being of eternal possibility.

I am a being of eternal possibility.

I am a being of eternal possibility.

Say this slowly. Taste the words. Let them melt in your mouth.


Previous post from July 6, 2016

*I’m reposting this because I find that I have come full circle, once again, back to this place of intention where I question who I am and what I have to offer. This place I know so well because it accompanies an longtime acquaintance of mine, depression. When I am here, I recognize things – unsettledness, unquietness, an uneasiness that permeates me to the core. And in this discord, I find my mind wandering erratically from one thought to another and back again. And as I sat here tonight working on my new blog – an attempt at answering that question what do I have to offer? – I was reminded of this post and found it to be relevant. So perhaps it is that my depression comes calling when I have need to allow myself to wander again. 

Intention: the thing that you plan to do or achieve; an aim or purpose. The opposite of which is aimlessness, avoidance, thoughtlessness.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about intention.. What things do I do with intention, and why? For example, in yoga class, prior to beginning practice, it is encouraged to set an intention – a reason to be, a reason to do. Intention gives meaning and purpose to tasks that might otherwise have none.

But I’ve been wondering if maybe things are too intent-driven these days. In our society it seems that everything circles a target, a place to get, a place to be, a purpose. So what happens when we set our intentions aside and simply let ourselves be?

If intention is aim or purpose, then the opposite would be allowing ourselves, and our minds to wander. What happens when we allow ourselves to wander without intent? I believe that we become open to so much more.

Intention focuses our gaze, directs our path, leads us. Without it we wander and explore openly all that is around us. We neither lead, nor are we led. We follow that which calls to us, no matter what the that might be. In doing so we become open and wide-eyed, child-like and curious.

When you were a child and you went exploring whether it was in the woods, or in your backyard, chances are you didn’t have a “to find” list. Most likely you set out just because you were bored, or curious. I used to come home after a day of exploring my neighborhood, or yard with pebbles in the shape of hearts, rocks that had stars embedded in them, locust shells, or a crown made from clover. All things I would have missed had I been on a mission and not allowed myself simply to wander. I still do this today.

The same concept applies to our minds. We should allow ourselves time to daydream, to wander freely around the corners of our minds because it is there, behind the lists and lists of intentions that the real magic is waiting to be dusted off.

Intention promotes reasoning. Wandering promotes wondering. And I believe that it is in wandering that some of our greatest problems are solved, some of the best ideas conceived.

Consider this: You are much more likely to hit a target if you are aiming at it, right? But what about all of the other possibilities outside of that target? Say the bullseye is intention. There is only one. But radiating from that one single intention are so many other possibilities waiting to be discovered. And if we are focussed on that ONE intention, look how much we might miss. Is it worth it? The bullseye still remains, but we allow all other possibilities a chance to exist as well.

Is the world attempting to communicate with us in ways we aren’t even aware of? Does intention hinder our deeper senses? How much of the world is blind to us?

Which way will you go?