BTTY Bites
No.1 - “It’s the commotion the mind makes about life that really causes problems.” - Michael Singer
No. 2 - “If you can’t decide, the answer is no.” - Naval Ravikant
No. 3 - “Process saves us from the poverty of our intentions.” - Elizabeth King
Maybe process saves us from the poverty of our actions?
A Thought
What Do You Call the Space Between Raindrops?
A book I was reading the other day asked that question. Let's come back to that.
I love rain. Well, that's not the truth. Sometimes I don’t love it. But I do love it under a covered porch with a cup of coffee and a good friend as we sit quietly and enjoy. Or during an afternoon nap or when it falls on old brown, crunchy leaves. I love it in the distance - a squall heading our way or some other way.
I love it because it turns things green, gives the city a bath, and makes those mud puddles I used to play in as a kid. I even loved warm rain on patrol when everything gets quiet.
And that post-rain smell. That's special. It turns out we have a name for that.
Petrichor (PE-tri-kor) is that distinctive earthy smell. It's a relatively new term coined by two Australian researchers. It combines the words "petra" (stone) and "ichor" (the fluid that was supposed to flow in the veins of the Greek gods).
Rhinos and Other Rh Words
Another word I like is rhinoceros. I like the animal more than the word but mostly because I struggle to spell it. Rhinos are big, tough, and nimble (they can run up to 35 MPH). Southern white rhinos are social and form "crashes." How perfect is that? It's a group of 4-5 females and their calves. The calves play and "crash," which helps develop social skills and strength. The females back each other up against aggressive males. They will show genuine distress when a crash member is injured or ill and stand guard until they recover. It's thought that the crash is one of the reasons that the southern white rhino has been able to make a comeback. It's basically like having a handful of tank-sized bodyguard friends.
Rhyme is another word I struggle to spell. Rhythm, no vowel. Wild. I guess the Y counts—Rhubarb, oh rhubarb. Gramma used to have a rhubarb bush. We'd break off a piece and take it inside, and she would slide a small dish with white sugar across her plastic tablecloth. I'd spend the next 15 minutes crunching and puckering away. My mouth waters just thinking about that.
Rhetoric has a negative connotation in modern language. Maybe it shouldn't. It's a solid word. Rhombus - You probably remember what this is. I didn't. It's a special shape where all four sides are equal in length, opposite angles are equal, opposite sides are parallel, and diagonals bisect each other at right angles. Think playing card diamond. A square is a special rhombus.
Why all the Rh words?
No reason. I like Rhinos and realized there might not be many other Rh words. So I wrote this for myself. Because usually, when I write here, I hedge. I think about who will read it, what they might think, and what that will all mean. A part of that is my ego. How will this impact what they think of me?
I like collecting ahas. They give me energy. Those lessons, I think, give me a better view of the world—maybe a little more truth or reality. I believe that if we learn something, we should share it. I try translating an 'aha' I've had into something you find helpful. Teaching it also helps us understand it more deeply.
Also, the process is energizing. There is something finished at the end—I did something. It's like going for a run. It doesn't matter what happens that day—you did that run.
The energy also comes from knowing that while most people don't say anything, I know something resonates occasionally. I'll get a message or a text from someone I didn't know was here, and they ask a question, say thank you, or sometimes say something much deeper. Something I said mattered to them at the right time. Those keep me writing publicly.
Finally, and this is a new understanding thanks to Princess Buttercup, maybe my kids will read some of this one day and find it helpful.
Dancing Between Raindrops
For a long time, Princess Buttercup and I have urged the kids to be rhinos—dancing rhinos. A big, nimble dinosaur-looking “joy mud” splattered thing standing on tip-toes in a pink tutu dancing between raindrops. When things get hard, sometimes you have to dance between the raindrops. Find your crash and dance. We always feel better after dancing (another PB lesson).
I'm going to work to write more authentically in the future. I know I won’t always, but I’ll try. It might mean that some of you don't stay, think less of me, or some other BS story I'm telling myself. That's okay. I'll be over here in my pink tutu and, with my crash, working on what we work on.
Be good.
Kelly
PS - did you know rhinos have three toes on each foot? Fascinating.
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