Back to My Roots (or Close Enough)

Women need their splurges and their pampering. (Men, in Mars, do as well.) But, back to Venus, I don't go to the nail salon (often), but I am addicted to highlighting my hair. Now, to save money, I've gone back to my roots (or close enough). and I'm freaking out because this doesn't look like me, and I can't sleep. Plus, I'm blessed with curls like you've hardly seen, and they look best with added dimension. Curly, freckled and dimpled, I say with pride and a sense of individualism. However, going back to my curls, Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh boy! All I can say is, I can't wait until some of this color washes off, and some highlights show through. Should I make it to my date tonight?

Emotions

It's amazing how emotions color the way events, words, art and the world is perceived. I wrote the poem in my last post with my heart full of promise, joy and optimism. Then, two days ago, as I sat at my desk in a sad, almost hopeless mood, I reread the poem and it felt so sad that I regretted writing and posting it. Something that seemed so beautiful and almost miraculous to me at first, due to the inner spiritual growth in me that I was trying to present, then seemed ugly and undeserving of its birth. Harsh. However, within a few hours, I was able to master my emotions again and turn the negative energy into something productively positive. I am glad I was able to do that, for more reasons than one. Especially since I've allowed emotions to almost drown me for something like too long. It's a difficult partnership though, that between the self and its emotions. Let logic, choice of thought, and conscious breath come in and some pain can be avoided, some balance achieved. I prided myself on my emotions for so long, after all they led me in my creativity and introduced me to the world of song where my voice and soul thrived. However, my reliance on emotion was a double edged sword and a drug that made me high and then dropped me from the Eiffel Tower, over and over. You see, I am a poet at heart, I've always been. I can feel until I feel no more, if I so allow. Right now, gladly, I choose to feel, but I also choose to choose how to feel, even if it may take some effort on my part. I elect to use emotion as a tool, not as my drug of choice.