intangible

I love words. I like the way words feel in my brain and in my mouth when I say them. If words had calories, I guarantee I’d be on the TV program “My 600 Pound Life” trying to figure out how to trim words from my diet. Sometimes I get a word stuck in my head and I can’t get it out until I use it, or whatever triggered it works itself out. If something gets stuck its almost always because I need it.

I woke up this morning with the word “intangible” in my head. It was almost an echo so I’m pretty sure I was dreaming about it. Intangible has long been a favorite. I mean, come on… Even if you aren’t sure what it means doesn’t it feel like possibilities and magic on your tongue?

I’ve been compartmentalizing a lot of things in my life. I’m very good at that. What I’m not as good at is opening the compartments up in a timely fashion to deal with it, lol. I have to remember that the point of compartmentalizing is to organize and deal with them not to put them away to linger. But I digress…

The whole day as went about my tasks and chores it was in the back of my mind. I was in the mode of the magic of the intangible as I trimmed my Bougainvillea tree. Its blooming. Big blooming. My neighbor (or neighbors) complained it was getting out of control to my landlord who messaged me to please trim it. (HOA’s are the devil) Maybe I’ve watched too many Disney movies about talking animals and inanimate objects. LOL, I am silly sometimes, but I was talking to the tree (in my head). As I trimmed it, I thanked it for being so pretty and apologized for having to cut it. Apologized for not knowing what I was doing in case I was causing damage. I reminded the tree it didn’t need my permission to grow and that despite my neighbors complaining about how big it was and how much space it took up, that God created it the way it was, so it was A-OK with me. One of the thorns scratched the shit out of me, lol, and after a second or two of cussing, I assured the plant I wouldn’t hold it against it since I can be a little unexpectedly thorny too. Did you know Bougainvillea has antipyretic (fever) and antidiabetic qualities? I did. I thanked it for being multi-talented and for trying to be a healer. Assured it I would leave space for it to grow, and to be able house the birds and caterpillars and butterflies and all the little things it does regardless of just being a tree or bush or whatever it is. Running dialog between me and the tree that no one else needed to hear. An intangible (unable to be touched or grasped; not having physical presence) conversation. It felt like the right thing. Peaceful. Calm. Cozy. ((Crazy or not.))

I realized shortly thereafter that conversation wasn’t about the tree. It wasn’t about trimming or thorns. It was about me talking to myself. Reminding myself that the intangible things about me are okay. Better than okay. They are part of my magic. It’s okay that I am thorny and cranky sometimes. It’s fine that some people think I do too much with all of the different activities and things I have a hand in. I can nurse and write and paint and skate and make jewelry because God and the universe made me that way. I don’t need to shrink or trim and make myself small because my neighbors and trolls on the internet think it’s too much. I can be a light in a room full of people and still be sad in my living room without being fake or less than. They are both parts of me. Someone can see or feel a “thing” about me. That intangible spark I don’t have to try to create. Just a feeling they get, and the next person can see me as average and unremarkable. All of that is okay. Those things are branches on my Bougainvillea tree I need to be careful not to trim back too much. That’s the compartmentalizing piece of it. Sometimes I put away the hurt I feel when people tell me I am doing too much. Or that I need to “focus” on one thing. What if my focus was created to be more than one thing? Multitasking at its finest. I’m taking those feelings out of those compartments and walking away from them. I committed to no longer making myself small. I’m no longer shrinking to make people comfortable. I forget that sometimes. Humans are allowed to be more than one thing. Multifaceted, complicated and in bloom. Intangible magic.

Does that make sense to you? Does it make you feel… Something? Some abstract, nameless thing that resonates in your spirit? That’s your Bougainvillea and I encourage you to have a conversation with it. Talk to it. Explore it and spark a conversation in your head with it. Remind it (and yourself) you can be unapologetically you and do as many things as your spirit can hold.

Be well. You matter.