New Gray.

January 4, 2022

I watched a favorite movie as the clock struck midnight. I had been reminded of the movie by what seemed to me to be the signature music of the movie.

Beethoven’s Seventh played in the movie’s poignant moment when King George gave his World War II speech to the people of Great Britain. I love the message of a king who, despite the paralysis of speech, learns to give the speech of a lifetime.

Do you have a movie in which there is one spot, one scene, that no matter how many times you see it, the emotion grabs you?

I come to tears every time his speech therapist counts down to the moment when the radio broadcast goes live. The go live button shines bright in an old fashioned red. King George breathes deeply.

And the beginning chord of the seventh symphony touches a part of one’s brain like a tapping finger. “It’s time. It’s time”

Resolution and responsibility fill the air with an almost strange desirability. A person wants to feel that moment.

I felt like it has been a new year although if you asked me specifically what I meant by that proclamation, I could not answer with definition.

Maybe it is only hope. I would like to call the state determination but I think such a label is only self-promoting bogus ness.

I created. I cannot say enough how important it was to me that I created. I chose to create, then dedicated time to do so.

Three days into the new year and I realized I the important part of my swimming was yet to come. Consistency. I packed up my plastic bag.

And I went to my water exercise. I swam just a bit. I walked and hopped in different depths of water. Then I grabbed the side of the pool. I froze my gaze to the cement decking. I kept telling myself to own the time. Be present, be there. And I started moving as if I was standing at the barre.

I opened my hips. I whipped my legs in jete’ movements, feeling both the water’s support and resistance. And I realized two points at polar opposite ends of the meaningfulness spectrum.

Or maybe both were at the same end of that spectrum. First I realized that I could clean, then use my old exercise bag. Personalized, it was a bright gold yellow that May or may not be cool.

I may or may not care. After two times I’m hooked on my additional exercise and I do not wish to tote around a plastic bag.

The second point is that my hair no longer looked good. I needed color and conditioning. Mostly I needed a change.

No more blonding. I am graying.

Happily.

Graying

Graying..

Published by Stephanie Monka Springborn

Hi. Welcome to my blog, the brick dandelion. I am... just me. Thank you for joining me. Love and Blessings, ~Stephanie

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