Scattered Sunday

It's Sunday.  I am already off balance today.  The morning began with my sparkling kiddos driving me to think thoughts of running away from home.  To someplace warm and ocean side.  To be quiet and think and breathe and write.  Sometimes the blessings that are our children are like small human piranhas that eat you alive bite by bite from the inside out starting in your soul and desserting on your brain.

Writing prompt it is: lark/northern/psychic.  Provided by Writing Prompts @writingprompts on Twitter.

I don't know a thing about larks except they are in songs and books a lot.  Usually that corny phrase about being happy.  Birds don't seem either happy or sad to me.  Fascinating, but not emotional.  I am slightly envious of their flight ability.  There are moments in life where it would be a beautiful escape mechanism to be able to simply disappear straight up into the sky on delicate and powerful wings.  But it isn't to be that way for us plump and meaty humans.

Northern makes me think of being a child and a teen.  Of summers.  The summers of the first half of my life.  Lakes and fires and pow wows.  Card games and pit toilets and "going to town".  Radio.  Hikes.  Endless days on the beach.  Sleeping bags and mosquito bites.  Notebooks filled with stupid stories.  Sketch books filled with horrible drawings.  Days filled with dreams.

Psychics.  Fascinating.  Not allowed.  That's the line, you know, when you're "Christian".  You aren't allowed to know about stuff like that or think about it or least of all think it's interesting or possible.  Sometimes I think it would be a good idea to know things or to hear things from people lost from this life already.  Sometimes I think we're better off with blinders on, not thinking and just moving and pushing forward.  Christian can feel stifling and suffocating when it equals not thinking or thinking in the closet to keep all the politically correct masses peaceful.  I know, that veered off psychic into Christian.  It's my blog, I can do that.

Where does your scattered brain go if you allow it to think?  Are you brave enough to think?