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Muddy waters--and nothing but the songs. Day of weeping--tears for all the others. What am I writing--is it part of any reason? I'm feeling like I'm dissolving--turning into sand. Sliding on the surface of the dream--painting fictions on the walls!

Dance class went well--except I was feeling dislocated and never got far into the flow. Except for the Casablanca dance--there were moments of flow there.

I'm fidgeting anticipating tomorrow's conference--an all day affair with lots of input, movement, and stimulation. Not what I do best anymore--but there are times when it's required.

I've been noodling over an idea--making my PD my differentiator. Making it an ally--the driver of all actions, choices, and moods and modes! Let it be something positive and creative--a source of inspiration and action. A warm woolly blanket--and not a coat of hair that itches and detracts. Sounds good--sounds simple. But is it so--where are the models?

There are plenty of examples--but how do I find my way? Let tomorrow be a lens--one that helps me focus on what I need to do, must do, must become.

Time to bathe and brush--skin the skin for a good night's sleep. Let tomorrow unfold--and fill the senses with hope and joy. Listen for the music--let the sounds of music fill the spaces in the thoughts. Find a way--find my way. Let the way manifest--let it be bright with the light.