I know…Monday is different than Friday…at least in the emotional factoring of time. Or. Something like that. However, when the week has a schedule…and you might not be a second-to-second person, Monday is a day that ends in y. But, no adjective. Nope. Perhaps just like any other day that ends in y.
Sure. Much of my thinking is neither myopic nor a purpose for persuasion. Because. You are you and you have your own thoughts, beating heart, breathing lungs…and, dare I say it…opinions that defy changing.
Into all this I coursed through Facebook…and this…this very snippet got my attention.
A caveat. I don’t consider myself a dancer…even when the 8th grade realities included Arthur Murray Dance Studio in Portland…which had the only highlight whom you were partnered with when the line ended. Don’t remember where our “dancing” [quotes required] was labeled in high school years…okay, enough of this, so I don’t get “Twisted” in memory. [For our college years that is a hint.]
I now share what was a Monday moment when my only awareness was I am alive, my breathing is good and my heart is settled. It amazed me how so many could be so “one” in terms of their dancing. I now share…if for no other reason than you can clip it on and be absorbed…how amazing…and to me, fascinating. Your time…take it!
Mark H. Miller's Blog 