The children invite me to make oobleck, but I've never even heard the word.
"You know--it's oobleck! 1 cup cornstarch and 1/2 cup water!" These little girls know their science: mixing cornstarch with water creates a bowl of joy with unusual physical properties. Oobleck functions both as a solid and as a liquid. When you apply pressure to the mixture (mixing it with your hands, slapping it around), you get a nice ball of dough. When you let it rest in your hands, that otherwise solid shape melts and oozes like a milkshake.
|Little Girls and Science|
It's bizarre. It's addictive. I find myself manipulating the oobleck with these friends for an hour. Nevermind that white goop covers the counters and the floors (just let it dry and it sweeps right up). Nevermind that I have work to do.
It's just so fascinating, this stuff.
I'm fascinated by objects or places that possess in-between sorts of qualities. I like transitional states, borderland locations, and things that are both one thing and another at the same time. I think of my froglet or that estuary. I think of caterpillars turning into butterflies, autumn leaves changing and falling, and snowflakes forming above me. Those things that are almost but not yet resonate so deeply with me.
|Solid and Liquid Oobleck|
It's because I too am almost but not yet. Half human, half spirit, we all dwell in that mystery of in-between living. We are almost to heaven, almost to our true home. In the meantime, I hold this day in my hand, sometimes feeling the hard pressure against it, sometimes feeling the smooth flow of peace in my heart. Either way, I'm fascinated.
Journal: When life feels "almost but not yet," how do I find peace right where I am?