Category: deep stuff

tradition

Today was our annual pumpkin painting party. We’ve been doing this for years just ahead of Halloween. Some new faces joined us this time, and it was a really special day.

I am grateful to be able to honor a household tradition and make new memories. One of my guests is moving out of state, and I feel sad that this may have been her last party for a while.

A new face joined in, and I am feeling such gratitude for the willingness to try something new in the company of my old friends and family. I feel hope and a cautious, wary optimism when I consider the possibilities.

Cheers to the comfortable bliss of tradition as well as the nervous but positive energy of a new beginning. Today, I am happy.

full moon

by the light of the full moon, i draw to me my own and release that which no longer serves me.  woowoo? yeah. harmless? absolutely.  powerful? indeed.

people are crazy this full moon, acting out in ways they shouldn’t. settle down, yo; i’m really not kidding.

good stuff: cheers!

at work today, i was so overwhelmed i thought i was going to scream…and then i glanced at my personal email and boom! daychanger. mood shift.  major website will accept my guest post!! yesssss!

scampered out to grab a salad and splurge on a pumpkin spice latte.   back in my office, i raised a toast to myself for the tenacity to keep writing even on days when no one’s reading: cheers!

dinner ready in the slow cooker–it was mediocre, but it was ready, so hallelujah for instant food.

good company.  smiles. a lot of laughter and a lot of good conversation.  this day was better than expected.  i raise my hard cider in salute to an honest (and kinda crappy) day’s work that still managed to be filled with good stuff.

sleepy reflection

i’m sleepy, worn out this cool Sunday evening.
my reflections and recollections…
1. Dolls are creepy. “Annabelle” is in theaters and yeah, I hate dolls even more than ever.
2. Laughter is good. Talking for hours is good. Find your people, your kindred spirits, and just connect until you can hardly stay awake
3. I was not a hugger until my late 30s. I still don’t want the world in my personal space, but hugs are so underrated.
4. Hard cider is easily one of my favorite things about autumn. Yeah, I know you can get it all year, but it is more special when the air is a little brisk and the leaves are changing colors.
5. Some things are really hard, difficult, all uphill…but hallelujah for things that are easy, happy, no stress. I will accept the ease, grateful not to have to fight my way through anything right this second.
6. Honestly, I have given up hope on happiness a thousand times over in the last ten years, frustrated and lost countless times. After a good weekend, I can say that maybe happiness doesn’t show up every single day like a sunrise, but it does show up. I have huge gratitude for happiness.

Accept the Nice

I have trouble accepting kindness directed my way. Generosity, compliments and all the normal kind stuff freak me out.

Chiquita tells me I need to “accept the nice.”

I think I must be defective, from the Island of Misfit Toys or something.

Here’s an example…it was said to me this week, “You look so pretty.” My brain goes, “Oh my God, what the hell does THAT mean? Is that sarcastic? Is this a trick? It’s probably a trick. It’s usually a trick. Pretty much always. Be a jerk about it. Shrug it off.”

Another example: “I’m going to figure you out.” And my brain goes, “The hell you are!” And alarms are sounding, battle stations are manned, it’s chaos, high alert.

I will work on accepting the nice, but for a little while, I’ll only accept it warily, like a feral cat accepts scraps: hesitant, on alert, then with intense focus.

The Hardest Stuff

I have pushed my way through school while working a full time job, from my associates degree to my MBA, all while single parenting my kiddo.  That was hard.

I have trained for a triathlon, even when I couldn’t swim, and managed to complete the tri.  That was hard, too.

I have shown up for work in such miserable back pain after an injury that I couldn’t turn my head to the left at all, and that was really hard.

Harder, though, than any and every challenge I can think of is to let someone new be close to me.  I can mend from broken bones and sprains, and I can coffee my way through work when I didn’t sleep the night before because I was working on a paper or sitting up with a sick child.  I can say “I don’t know how” and learn something from scratch.  I struggle, though, with being close to someone new, because when it implodes, that’s the hardest stuff to recover from…coffee and Tylenol doesn’t help that kind of hurt, and as the years go by, I know I’m less willing to put myself in those vulnerable places.  Some people build a wall to keep their hearts safe, to keep their distance; I’ve built a fortress, complete with moat and dragon.

And of course, that reminds me of a song. What doesn’t remind me of a song? “Had to stop in my tracks for fear of walking on the mines I’d laid…”

 

Wrong Side of the Bed

If you are all coupled up in domesticated bliss…or domesticated non-bliss, whatever…you have your side of the bed. It’s your side at home, your side in hotels and at your in-laws’ house when you travel.

And that side “sticks.”  It stays long after you’ve filed your copy of the divorce papers into some folder in the closet.  The bed I have now is MY bed, never part of any long time shack-up, but I still have my side.  The other side stays empty, and the blankets stay pulled up high and neat on the other side, the wrong side.  Sometimes my leg or my arm will drift over into the cold, empty space, but I still sleep on my side of the bed.

This morning, I woke up from a ten hour hibernation (ten hours! not 4, not 6, but ten, that’s weird all by itself) on the wrong side of the bed, all curled up with the “other” pillows.  Blanket up to my cheek.  A little disoriented, and maybe a little sad that there is such a thing as this empty space to crawl into.

I was so bewildered that I scooted back over to my side, and I let my feet hit the floor from my side, not the other side.  I waffle back and forth between wanting that side of the bed filled and wanting it to stay empty, because empty means my heart is safe.

blurt it all out

i haven’t told anyone.  i’m tempted to blurt it all out.  when secrets are said, does it break the spell, magic gone? i don’t know, so i haven’t said a word, because this magic is something special.

i want to keep it all to myself.  a moment later, i want to post it on facebook and the 6 o’clock news.  luckily, it’s past 6 o’clock so i missed my chance today.

is the joy found only in the secrecy of keeping something all to yourself, or is there a separate joy that rises from the ashes of a secret spilled, a joy that’s bigger than the joy of the inside joke, the private info?

Autumn Equinox

It’s 1 AM in the wee hours after the autumnal equinox, the perfect balance of daylight and darkness.  I fall into my rhythm this time of year, hit my stride.  Screw January for new beginnings; my rebirth is when the first hint of chill hits the air, summer yielding its power, relenting to cool nights, blankets on the couch, overflowing words.

I should be asleep, but what am I doing? I’m up streaming some YouTube videos, awestruck by talent.  Inspired.  Moved.  Thinking on what collaborations, what genius can come when one creative spirit crashes into another and sparks fly.  Late nights with blankets and winding conversations and empty shot glasses set my muse free.

Inspire me.  Let me tell your story thirty-five different ways.  Let me tell the truth; let me tell a lie.

And let me inspire you.  Move forward.  Smile.  Be happy.  Trust me.  Don’t waste a day, a moment-when I turn away, call my bluff, because I will sure as hell call yours.  Create create create, and share it with the world for free or for pay but don’t ever stop again…keep going, inspire me.

As the leaves start to turn, I feel the possibilities on the wind…something magical with wild potential just around the corner.  I don’t want to figure you out; I just want laughter, words, and for your music to play on.

 

pride, ashes

The lyrics repeating in my head are:

Passion or coincidence once prompted you to say “Pride will tear us both apart;” now pride’s gone out the window, ‘cross the rooftop, run away.

That’s from Ordinary World by Duran Duran,   if you care to check it out http://youtu.be/dDLiVwpv89s

Pondering pride today, ego, self-worth. Giving thought to jealousy and envy.  I am still surprised by what can hurt me.

There are times I’ve thought I had a life plan that was really coming together.  There have been moments where I honestly believed all my dreams were falling into place, that I was finally going to have the things I wanted in my world.  In the last 36 hours, I’ve realized that most of my plans are ashes, rubble, bits that will never fit back together as I had intended.