A Woman Undanced.

How can one dance with all this clutter on the floor? 

The mental floor is clunked and cluttered. 

How can one dance with all this to-do, that to-do, and more to-do? 

do.do.do  dodo  i.e. s***

How did I get to all this dodo? 

How can one dance freely when one has to choose, choose, decide, and decide some more? 

I need to undo all this doing, because I am coming undone. 

A WOMAN UNDANCED

I am undanced by too much doing.

I haven’t danced (internally) in years – always other demands in my time and space.

Fix me! Put me away! Buy me! Return me! Clean me! Check me! Text me! Email me! Subscribe to me! Respond to me! Like me! Watch me! Listen to me!

Ugh!!!!!

Things to do, things to buy – appointments need going – return return return – calls to make – calls take forever! Technology frustrates – too many choices,  too many decisions – undecided and feeling deprived – decide and feel deprived; something better might be out there – what’s better anymore? What is real betterment?

With all this so-called betterment, why am I getting worse?

Is all this noise, all this choice – all this clicking and passwording – all this “verifying,” better for me?

Is this instant life better for me? Instant messaging and texts that disrupt my dance, before I even start.

Having to think about time zone differences. Ugh.

Is this so-called “global life” better for me?

Different time zones keep me unbalanced.

You have to have good balance to be a good dancer.

Do I need five gas stations? Ten groceries?

I used to be happy with one. One gas station. One grocery.

The same gas station. The same grocery.

Sameness.

Some sameness is sane.ness.

Food has lost its zest. Thousands of pounds of so-called-food that has no flavor.

Abundant food, but a poverty and deprivation of taste.

Taste is one of my five cylinders (senses) and it no longer works. One of my body parts (you could say), a leg – and it is broken, and I can not dance.

I am undanced by this so-called better life of more; more stuff, more food, more choice, more decision, more more more more, more to do, more to look at, more to know, more more more information…ugh, ugh, ugh.

I want to vomit – to spew out all this so-called betterment.

Better I am not.

I am unwell.

My well (ness) has shriveled up.

I am undanced.

I need a clean, clear dance floor.

So let the clearing begin!