The Reflection is Overwhelming me. Or is it Just me Overwhelming the Reflection?

When I look in the mirror I hardly recognize myself. When I sit still I don’t feel anything like myself. I’ve changed faster than a leaping tadpole in the past few months: there is a baby growing in my belly, I am now the super age of 30, I traveled with my Mamma to India, oh and I was promoted. Along with the current wedding planning… (aka wedding backtracking because the dress won’t fit anymore) I’m beginning to think again about that quicksand, but in a different way. More like a whirlpool, or even better, the grand black hole! Yes, it is like a black hole: the mass of things that are happening in my life right now is so great, the gravitational pull swallows everything and even warps space time.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful for a second; I just want to document the feeling. I created this black hole and the more I explore and understand it, the more I realize I wouldn’t want it any other way or have it located in any other part of my universe.

I am beginning to wonder: although it is great to have all these spokes for my wagon wheel, is it possible to have too many? Is the wheel truly infinite and if so, as we approach infinity, does the quality or rather the limit of the spoke equal zero? By having more spokes, do we make the other ones thinner?

The greatest thinning effect so far has been on my memory. They call it 'pregnancy brain', I call it 'doing too many things at once brain'. What scares me is that it will all go by, before I even have the chance to enjoy it. Additionally, one of the greatest struggles I’ve overcome is taking the edge off. So many new responsibilities provide so many new planets to juggle. In the past nothing could satiate me better than a few good beers. Sure a drink now and then they say is fine, and I saw the gal put beer in the bottle that night on the patio in Germany, “It helps her sleep”, but I’m talking about fine inTOXICation. That is what I need and what I cannot have.

Although, I can have music. As much as I want, whenever I want, even at work and it works even better. Nothing makes me wiggle like that. Nothing makes the rhythm of my heart change like that. Beer never made me feel that good in my soul, not even Paulaner on tap at Oktoberfest in München, and not even Winter Solstice at Humpy’s in Alaska on the longest day of the year.

Music holds it all together so much so that I think as long as it is part of the equation, the wagon wheel has no limit.

* This is a photo I took when we were in Agra (there is a reflection in the water).

Getting Naked and the Birth of the Wagon Wheel

Up until now I have resisted blogging. What the hell would I blog about anyway? Nobody would read it and yikes, talk about online pornography. I don’t want anyone to see me that naked. Just naked, I’ll live. Verbally naked, hell no.

This analogy got me wondering: Was I so afraid/ self-conscious/ shy the first time I ever let someone see me naked?

I think I was 4. My friend had a killer mud puddle in his backyard after it rained and to get in it real good we had to be naked, so we got naked and no, I was not afraid. 25 years later, with no real reason (other than to embrace the freedom of uncensored publishing) I find myself with that same innocently wicked desire to get naked and jump into the mud puddle of cyberspace.

What the hell would I get naked about anyway?

It seems like most bloggers have a theme. A beautiful thing, something to keep them on track. But let’s be realistic. I’ve never been able to narrow anything down to just one passion, one interest, or even one focus of academics. For crying out loud I went to France to study science, now concentrate! Faites-moi confiance!

Life is a wagon wheel. A wheel is a circle and a circle is infinite. Therefore, there are theoretically an infinite number of “spokes” with varying girth to support the outer frame of the wheel from collapsing in on itself while carrying the weight of the wagon. Sure, you only need a few spokes to have a wheel strong enough to hold the weight, but the more spokes you have and the thicker they are, the stronger the wheel and the more weight you can carry with your wagon. Why would you want to carry more weight with your wagon?...Why would you want to live your life?...Follow me?

How do you get thicker spokes?

Knowledge, learning, experiencing anything imaginable as much as you can in a lifetime. Scuba diving is a spoke. The more dives you do and the more classes you take the thicker your scuba spoke gets. Same goes for any passion, hobby, subject,… anyone in all the infinite realities could ever think of. There is the meaning of life! Go make wagon wheels!

And what could better keep me on track than a wheel? So there is my theme. Anything and everything infinitely imaginable (including black holes).