Sitting in a park avoiding

People

Sinking my feet in the grass

Even as I wiggle about

Wondering

Is it the people?

Or the reflections they bring

That I try and sort out

Mirrors

That I don’t wish to peer in right now

I’ll go back to the world in a minute

But just for a moment

The slanted dark eyes of ducks

Magpies strutting past

I can’t imagine

Nor mind

What these birds think of me

So why would I think I can preconceive

People?

*lately I’ve had a great deal of contact with people. I’ve talked to them, corresponded and all the while I’m stumbling across preconceptions of perceptions that I project onto them as to how they think of me

If someone doesn’t get back to me, I’m thinking they are not interested, that they think this or that or something else

Usually I am wrong and the other 10% of the time I wouldn’t have a clue other than the stories my mind likes to come up with

It’s a complete waste of time and energy – on a logical level I know this

Yet still the mind spins it’s stories and tales

I let it

Knowing as a writer I’ve got a great imagination and should employ it more productively

On things that are helpful

But sometimes I’m lazy and just let it spiral

I pay it no attention or not too much

Other than to wonder now and then at how often we can be prone to thinking rather poorly of ourselves.

Photo – Trip west earlier last week. Dusty dirt road. Mirror.