Turbid

Very often I'll get a word or two in my head and they'll sort of tumble around in there until I can figure out why I'm thinking about them or I get distracted by something shiny. A few weeks ago the word was Turbid....interesting. I'd actually started to write something about it but it was absolute crap so I ditched it but I hadn't stopped thinking about it.

Last night I scribbled something down on a scrap piece of paper after some thoughts.

Turbid: (1) clouded, opaque or muddy, as a liquid. (2) confused, muddled.

When I was in AP Bio in high school we took a five day field trip and did coastal ecology experiments, one of which included testing the turbidity of the water. This uses a secchi disk that's dropped slowly into water; when it's no longer visible that depth is marked. The more turbid the water, the more contaminated it is (by runoff, algae blooms, science stuff). The visibility is low, things are lost. Ever tried to snorkel in a clouded lake? Sucks.

Turbidity...losing myself in a situation, hoping to fake it til it works, forcing a square peg in a round hole, shaving edges and boundaries...hoping to force an ends rather than living the means. Not just in relationships but expectation, occupation, even memory. Letting things get turbid; forsaking definition for comfort or the feeling of safety and losing the better parts of oneself in the process. Stirring up things that should've settled long before. Turbid: a sort of succubus preying on standards and boundaries. I'm astounded how turbid things have gotten recently, how I've let them get there. I wasn't just passive, I was permissive. Hoping clarity is coming.