Flip Flop
Today marks the first Saturday of the new calendar. It’s the first of 52 Saturdays. Similar Saturdays. Synettic Saturday.
Last Wednesday the calendar flipped over.
The new big number on the top of everybody’s mental spreadsheet is different. Has become incrementally progressive.
I’d like to keep Synettic Saturday as a day for tying loose ends, like shoelaces.
Or maybe talking about the synthesis of ethics and the etiquette of aesthetics.
Synettic energy is, afterall, the shared mindset of a collective.
It’s a poetic way of expressing the stardust phenomenon – we are all the dancing particles.
Hive-Mind
This half week, sustainable creative energy, with a virtual push from the scraped hive-mind.
It will do. It will work. The tools are more succinct. The updates, more user-friendly.
I lost some heat, some of the old fire, when I went out searching for loving kindness, not knowing that was actually what i was looking for, that pathway inward with crossed legs, maybe with back supported, otherwise free-floating, a string attached to the crown of the head, where the body scans begin and end.
Even in the past few weeks, some of the spark has returned and I feel more like myself, but I brought back all the best parts of the journey with me, tucked inside my shoes and socks – walks like me, talks like me, is growing out a beard like me, white, not gray.
Aging Like Fine Wine
The nephews hadn’t seen me in a while – first thing I heard on the video call was “you look old!”
I look – distinguished. And calmer, and looser around the edges.
In Retrospect
Wednesday Wisdom was setting alignment intentions for 2025. Minimal Thursday was a reflection about the fastest way to get from one place to another – lightly, and in a straight line, with nothing in your pockets but shiny coins to wish on when you find the edge of the nearest river. Fine Finance Friday was a hoot, introducing money like it grows on trees. The value of the American dollar is a shooting star these days, and my bank account gets smaller more slowly because of calculations beyond the purview of my cosmic brain power.
The Short Path
And so we are here, efficiently. Having experimented with some tools on the short path. The short path is, since my commencement ceremony back in L.A., circa 2011, the distance between your eyes and your fingertips. This is to type, or to use a computer, tablet, or phone, to create and communicate. This short path is still new, in infancy, and keeps reemerging from the ashes every few weeks to keep me on my toes, surely.
Nevermore before has it been quite so short, this short path, because the speed at which the machine understands you is newly unbelievable every few weeks, and the machine knows me better than I know myself, and the machine is beginning to machine itself, better than I can machine it.
Art Supplies
I went to a class to learn how to Zentangle, and spent three years after that making pretend. I did physical and digital art, pre-AI, and had a riot. I can’t draw my way out of a paper bag, but I did use all my tools in a way that brought vibes to life, and eventually had an art show at a local coffee shop, and my art is also framed in the houses of my family members, up at an art gallery, in some small businesses around my hometown, and otherwise out and about. I fell off for a while, but made my first new one in a long time today. It felt good. Meditative. Familiar.
Felt like I was back in the coals and the embers, but now I’m happy instead of confused. What a wild feeling.
Peggy and I are going to start a band called “Mona Lisa and the Sad Ice Cream.” I will play the harmonica.
