I started cookedheads to be accountable for the proof of a theory I am applying to my life.
Theory: I make my own world and therefor have complete power over how I experience it.
Proof: A work in progress that keeps me in peace and delight and results in the manifestation of the contents of an envelope I sealed over a year ago.
When I asked you guys about your "why"s, it was because I'd noticed a resistance on my part to blogging even though doing the snoopy dance in the word river is one of my delights . I'd think about a post, or even go so far as to draft it in a moment of inspiration, then stop short of hitting the publish post button.
This didn't really concern me much until I realized I was doing the same thing about learning French and then I began to look around at quite a number of things I enjoy doing, but resist.. Since I got so much good feedback from everyone about the "why" that motivates them to continue blogging, I figured I'd ask if you guys ever do that.
Then I started writing away from the familiar blue and orange of blogger circa 2011. This is the post that came out, unedited, without being proofread, so bare with me
"new things are foreign because we haven't spent enough time with them. thinking about them makes us comfortable enough to allow the universe to give us the next lesson, the thing we THINK we want... because the universe knows once we get 'it' whatever that goal is, we'll THINK we want something else, something we don't have, always looking for the thing that makes us feel okay.
things are symbols the way words are."
A beach house is....?
A beautiful body is.....?
A collection of fascinating experiences is......?
Blonde highlights are.......?
A handsome wealthy partner with a stamped up passport and a beach house who pays for your blonde highlights is....?
Some of those things, I want.Some of them I don't want. Some of those things I have. Some of them I have, just not the way I want to have them, and this reminded me of a experience in my collection, but it didn't seem fascinating because it didn't happen in a size 4, or while doing the tango, or sipping champagne while in Champagne
It was in Las Vegas, a city which I cannot abide. Although I did in fact abide there which is why I no longer can. "It ain't me babe", thank you Bob Dylan Whilst I abideth in brown pastures, I met a little girl who was red headed, freckled, blue eyed and fearless as we are before we're given fear. I asked her what she wanted for Christmas and as she sat on the floor at my feet, petting her dog, she said she wanted a dog. I pointed out the oversight slapping her with its tail. She said,
"No no. I want Santa Claus to bring me a dog that does what I say."
Out of the mouths...etc.
Obviously, the dog isn't the problem. Neither is our unremarkable house, our cellulite, our bank account, our empty passport, our brown hair, or or the mostly adorable, spendthrift homebody who loves you and is fine with brown hair but likes it long.
Make the dog behave. Hang a picture. Talk a walk. Put the "bargain" down. Loveperiod Chase delicious in every way possible.
And that, my dear unmet friends, why I started Cookedheads. To chase delicious and hope other people would come along for the romp.