I suppose most people organize their phone applications based on frequency of use or date of download. I organize mine partly by frequency of use, but mostly just by color.
I have my main screen, which is the functionality necessities. Those icons, of course, are arranged by color. Then, on my second screen, and every other screen, I have the application icons all arranged by color within each screen. Even the first page of a group/folder on a screen matches up with the icons around it. Every so often, I rearrange the icons, because the app developers decide to rebrand a bit and change their icon and its color.
I enjoy the satisfaction it offers the eyes upon viewing, and also the fun letter combinations that turn out from the apps that have their first letter showing. Until today, I had a line that read “FOWW”, and it almost always made me smile. But I rearranged today, and it has changed to “FOLr” and “W–W” on separate lines. Oddly enough, I have three apps, and on the same page, that read “W”. Fun, huh?
Now, do tell me, can you possibly take me seriously after this? 😛
I tend to tread lightly… both figuratively and literally.
It bothers me when others tread heavily, loudly, noisily… both figuratively and literally.
I tend to take people off-guard by my doing so…
I tread lightly, but with intentionality and casual comfort and ease… yes, both figuratively and literally.
And when I am met with fear, I pause, take a few full breaths, relax, and continue forward, still treading oh-so-lightly…
I tend to read lightly, and I thus feel that I am often not even noticed.
It is who I am, but that doesn’t mean the noise and thunderous clamors of the world around me make it easy to be myself.
The hardest part is always the breathing, for some reason… that’s the part I always seem to forget, and it gets me just a little bit turned around, as though I am looking for the breath I have lost… when I find it, though, it gives me the strength to take my next steps onward and forward… as myself, lightly, intentionally, and confidently so.
I miss my bed in Japan. My bedroom, especially, is one thing I miss most these days. It was a haven for me. No matter what kind of chaos or boredom lurked in my life, every night, my bedroom awaited me in calm, open, and empty space… in beauty. I shut my doors, and was safe in my retreat from everything else. Only love and blessings were ever allowed into my bedroom. I wasn’t even allowed to walk in it if I hadn’t recently showered. Clean clothes, my ukulele and ukulele music, my nighttime books, and water and tissues were just about all that ever went in there, aside from a clean me and my bed.
My bedroom now is slightly larger, but filled with boxes and stuff… a sentimentality to which I am not so sure I still want to cling. I think I am afraid that I will forget the memories, if I get rid of the objects. I do not, for the most part, want the objects, but the memories and the ways I felt. Without the objects, what will remind me?