December 30th, 2019 | Comments Off on a hummingbird in december

a hummingbird in December

I’m taking it as a sign of some sort.  It will present itself eventually.  I hastened to clean and fill the feeder, in the hopes it will soon return.  My mom loves birds.

~*~*~*~

I’m going to tell you my dream, Mama.  And some of my thoughts.  I want to hear about your dream, Mama, and what it looked and felt like from where you are.  We will compare notes!

We are in the spirit, so we present ourselves in joyful child form, sparkling little girls.  You with your platinum curls, golden eyes, and milky white skin, me with my wispy brown waves that won’t stay out of my face (I get that from you, by the way).  We are wearing fluffy dresses and roller skates, regular Shirley Temples!  I take your hands and we clasp them criss-cross.  We are in the spirit and I assure you that we can do this.  After all, I saw it done at Teatro Zinzanni!  We are on a circular pedestal and we begin to skate in a spinning circle, round and round, faster and faster.  We are joyful little girls, skating our hearts out, giggling with delight.  I’ve explained to you that as we spin, we are weaving a web of light, and we are opening a portal to heaven.  Because we are getting ready to do some healing work.  We need a strong beam that will serve as a funnel, a tornado of light that will draw the poisons and sufferings out from our beings and incinerate them with the fire of heaven.

We spin together, round and round, faster and faster, and we weave a funnel like a beehive, with thick honey golden coils, but it’s not enough.  We need a pyre with the strength of a hurricane for what we are to do.  The dream changes, and we are no longer little girls.  I’ve summoned the siblings and we are all here, your tribe, all of us, in the spirit.  We are joined together hand in hand, encircling you, tenderly.  You are a slight and elder form, seated on a cushion or a couch, maybe your hospital bed.  You glow with an ethereal platinum light, and we, your tribe, glow brightly with a golden white light.  You are not strong and we radiate a cushion of warmth that surrounds you and holds you so that you can rest and float and allow the poisons and sufferings to flow out when heaven’s gate is opened.  Our hands clasped, we form a tribal circle and dance around a blazing fire.  It’s a magical display, a joyful pow-wow.  There is so much energy as we dance and celebrate and rejoice and love.  The fire blazes stronger and stronger and the golden tendrils of light weave together, stronger, tighter, stronger, tighter, forming a blazing tornado of golden white light.  The tornado blazes, tended by the tribe.  You and I are back to little girl form, two Shirley Temples, seated in the center of the tornado, where it is quiet and still.  My arm is around you and I’m the big sister now.  You feel lost and afraid; you are small.  I hold you and comfort you and assure you that I will protect you, that you don’t have to be afraid, you don’t have to know what to do, you don’t have to know who to be or how to be.  You can just rest and I will hold you and take care of you.  I’ve got you.  We are in the spirit, I say.  See?!  You relax and melt into my embrace.  I brush a wisp of your platinum hair from your sweet face.  Now we are ready.  I hold you, you beautiful, pure, innocent and precious child.  You are wrapped in my embrace, and we are wrapped in the holy blazing embrace of heaven.  We are in the still place where time and space have no meaning.  The space between.  Where our molecules and our energy are distinct, and we swim about through the waves and fields of the essence of our being.  Here we find the poisons and sufferings and draw them out, out, out, like the way a log jam collects and grows and is gently yet persistently carried downstream towards a waterfall, the poisons are pulled through the blazing tornado, seared, clarified, and absorbed into heaven’s embrace.  We swim and stir up the waters to release more sufferings.  We extend our reach to embrace those near us, our beloveds; we are all in the spirit in this cosmic goo, so we beckon their sufferings out and away, to send them back to become one with heaven, too.

There were other dreams.  So many dreams.  I showed you my chedvah place with the bright pea pod green grass and blue blue sky.  I showed you my sleeping diamond-skinned dragon mother-ship.  We climbed inside the ship, two little girls, and hid and played.

And I helped you see, from my eyes, how worthwhile your life has been, how you always did the best that you knew how to do, how your part brought about deep and widespread blessings, and how thankful I am for you.

~*~*~*~

Somewhere in the night I had a moment of conviction in which the clear act of faith is to go ahead and book the vacation rental house for our summer celebration of life and family, and to boldly assume that we will celebrate her birthday together in February as planned.

I hope she feels strong enough to continue earthly living.  For myself, I think about the sunset years, and there is a hope to share the sweetness of age with my dear sisters.  I wish for my mom and her sister to be able to share more of their sunset together.

And selfishly, we all wish for Mom to want to hold on, because we’re just too tired to process more loss right now.

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September 21st, 2019 | Comments Off on in the spirit on the Lord’s day

When I retreat to find that place of healing, I think it’s my version of prayer.  I described it, in part, before. 

There’s another version in which I’m not in the physical plane at all, so there’s no figure, no spinning, no tornado.  My non-physical self finds the heart-spark and I visualize breathing on it, deeply and gently, carefully coaxing the ember to emerge and grow.  I breathe my emotions out, feeding the glowing white ember, and it becomes stronger and stronger and warms me and nourishes me at the same time.  There’s a flow happening, kind of like a toroidal Fibonacci thing, and I suppose that figuratively my heart is at the center, and there comes a point where the center opens up (sort of like the way the jaws on a chuck open to release a drill bit), and the flow becomes more like a fire hose, bright white light, sort of like that scene from the 5th Element, where she completes the circuit.  Then I am breathing long deep steady breaths, and it’s as though I’m a vacuum cleaner, this firehose stream of bright light, pulling people’s struggles out and away from them.  It’s sort of like lucid dreaming, in which my physical body is doing one thing — the breathing — and some part of my mental self is monitoring the whole scene; it knows that my soul self has gone out to take care of a few things…  My spirit (?) then scans for anguish and sends tendrils out from the main stream to reach out and connect to those pains so that they can flow out from where they are causing suffering.  In those moments, it seems as though I’m channeling, that I am in the spirit, and that I draw those sufferings away from these people who are crying out in their innermost hearts, and those sufferings are drawn into the stream where they dissolve and become shiny new energy, ready to launch new dreams.  All the while, tears flow, and I feel as though I am healing (because my own emotions are flowing out and away from me), and that I am helping others to heal as well.

Sometimes I wonder if this is my calling, the thing that I’m supposed to be doing.  Maybe I’m a healer.  Nobody needs to know that I even exist, for me to do this work.

There is another version of healing trance that I can describe.  It’s like the first one, in which I visualize myself spinning, arms spread, spinning around and around, sending waves of light, love, comfort, and harmony out from my extended hands, weaving a tornado of protection around me.  I stand in the center of stillness and catch my breath and gather my strength.  When I am filled with strength, I envision myself, sort of like an Olympic figure skater, spinning so fast and then pulling the body in tighter and tighter, spinning faster and faster, tighter, so tight, all that spinning energy gathering speed deep and close in.  Spinning faster, faster, tighter, smaller, more and more concentrated, a cyclone, like nuclear fusion, faster, tighter, smaller, until it’s almost infinite energy bound in an infinitesimal point…   ….and then POW!  It’s a pulse explosion, and I send a blast across the cosmos and it surges over and through everything in its path as it radiates and washes a blast of healing energy out through the dimensions, cosmos, layers.  It sounds megalomaniacal, now that I describe it.

~*~*~*~

Those have been the forms my prayers have taken, for some years.  I have two new forms that have emerged since Tuesday last.

~*~*~*~

It’s like the others, in getting the ember going, and the tendrils of light are like threads, and I begin a looping crochet stitch, weaving a chain mesh until I’ve completed a circle and then begin the next circle, interweaving each new loop, and the chain begins to take form and grow strong, and then new weavers come, all of those who are pouring out their love right now, their spirits find this thread and they all begin to weave their light threads into a web of healing light, a fortress of love pouring into my brother, seeping into all the areas where strength and healing are needed.  All of the looping and interweaving continues, building a glistening, radiant cocoon, while concurrently, the beloveds are all joined arm in arm like a ring of children, dancing in a circle, singing a loving song, spinning an outer shield of pure white light up and around the weavers, around the cocoon.  We are all in the spirit, channeling our love together, nourishing him, nourishing each other.  We heal each other as we heal him.  And he heals us.

~*~*~*~

The other vision begins like the figure skating one, only we are here together, and he’s on a hoverboard  or skateboard thing and I’m on skates.  The first time, it began with just me, and then we found each other and teamed up.  Now, we meet back up and say, time to get back to work.  This, because I keep falling asleep from exhaustion.  I am so fatigued that my body just stops.  It’s been such a long time since I’ve been able to sleep deeply, and now I don’t have a choice.  I wake up, and go about my day in a sort of a detached state, doing the things that I have to do, but with a sense of hurry, because I need to be able to stop and be quiet and still and try to find my way back to that place, because we have so much work to do.  I get back, and we skate about, looking for all the places that need to be attended, and we infuse, we fortify, we weave new connections.  The beloveds have arrived, and we’re all skating up, down, in, around, our trails of golden light fusing new pathways.  It’s kind of like the enchanted cleanup scene from Beauty and the Beast, where all the enchanted ones dance about in a joyful and exuberant display, pixie dust sparkling here, there, twinkle, poof, all the while the place being put back into order, tip top.  He leads the way on his hoverboard, spinning loop-the-loops and figure eights, this way guys, follow me!  We laugh and skate and make a golden new network to let the love flow where it needs to go.

 

September 20th, 2019 | Comments Off on love flows, music knows

Swimming in tears and music and love.  It all flows and swirls around me.  So many joyful thoughts and memories.  So much beautiful living we’ve experienced.  How blessed we are.

So let that wonder take you into space
And lay you under its loving embrace
Just feel the thunder as it warms your face
You can’t hold back

Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you’ll know what I mean
It’s the season

Let your love fly like a bird on a wing
And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine and you’ll know what I mean
That’s the reason

September 19th, 2019 | Comments Off on crisis operations

Reflecting on past moments of crisis, and  how I navigated through them, it seems that I kept on doing the thing that I was doing.  I went to work.  I think, maybe when the emotional stuff is beyond what I am able to process, I shift it behind a veil where I can keep an eye on it while continuing with life as usual.

So today I worked and dove into very focused and detailed tasks, to keep my mind fully contained.  It helped me today, but now it’s night, and now I am finally alone with my thoughts.  Now I can let tears fall down my face as I begin to wrangle all of me into concentrated loving attention that I can send out in waves to the people I love most in this world, my family.

I’m startled by every text notification ding.  I’m afraid to look and I’m desperately hopeful to look.  I’m similarly alarmed by the sound of the phone ringing.  I realize that I must hold my breath and not release it until I know who’s at the other end and why they’re contacting me, because I find myself exhaling when the determination has been made, and after that it’s difficult to catch my breath.  I can’t get enough air.

We all feel so helpless.  There is nothing we can do besides love and hope.

He wants to live!  He sure got a lemon of a vehicle, and figuring out its quirks has taken such toll, but he’s tried so hard to figure it out and give it what it needs.  He’s doing his part!  He’s done everything the doctors have told him to do.  He wants to live.  Or he wanted to, before this.  I don’t know if he wants to now, because this…  …this one’s ravaged him hard.  Is he in there, pounding his fists and shouting at us, hey, I’m right here, don’t worry, I’m just looking for that danged short so that I can fix the circuit and get this machine back online.   I hope.

There is so much love!  A steady stream of friends have come to the hospital to see him and wish him well and give their love.  He is a fine, fine person.

My family is aching.  The arms of my heart are wrapped around them, holding them tight.

I just recognized another interesting thing about emotional crisis.  Exhaustion.  Feeling like I’ve only barely begun to process the emotions, yet nearly overcome with exhaustion, to the extent that I feel that I could collapse or pass out.

August 19th, 2019 | Comments Off on this is going to be fun, 24601

Found in a notebook…

It’s July, It’s 2017. It’s a Tuesday night and I’ve had a stressful day and I’m unwinding. I wrote this:

Use your molecules wisely.

Spend your molecules wisely.

….Molecules….

YOUR Molecules

It’s what you’ve got. GOD gave them to you. This most inexplicable gift! Privilege!!! How are you going to honor them?

L I V E

Live it UP!!! LIFE is your gift!!! It’s what you’ve GOT! Rejoice in all things! Why not?! Why NOT?!!!???!!

<3

On my way to work, I thought about my core, my spirituality, my truth. I had to re-group, to re-think and re-consider the spiritual stance that I’ve been holding staunchly for all of these years. Ever since the time that I set in my heart to learn and to know. The phrase that captures my thoughts is ‘The Mystery of Being’. Thoughts about life. Existentialism…

If the earth is a closed system –physically, anyway– the matter within the gravity field and atmosphere remains somewhat constant. There is space and the cosmos, but for the bulk of the argument, it’s probably valid to consider earth as a closed system. So for physical laws, the matter of which living things are comprised is the same matter of which living things were comprised before us. Carbon’s anniversary. What are we made of? The molecules that comprise us belonged to someone else and something else before we got the privilege of vesseling them. So who am I? Not 24601… Maybe my molecules were part of a healer or an artist or a warrior. What if there is or are other dimensions beyond anything physically comprehensible, but just as visible for those who have eyes to see? What if who I am carries fragments of the spirits of those who have gone before me? Of course it’s easy to recognize remnants of those from whom I’ve come directly –genetics. But what about more? The matter that has existed for all the ages as we know them. My molecules could have been part of someone else. Not could. MUST. We are carbon based! Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. But our spirit! Our soul! What if the fragments are part of universal one-ness? That’s redundant, but I don’t know how else to say it. DMT -The Spirit Molecule… This substance that is a part of all living things. A common thread. And the enlightenment that is revealed when a human is exposed.

I think about the meaning of life. What’s the point? Maybe there’s no point. It’s a gift and a privilege we’ve been given. Do with it what we want, while we have it. Joy. Or don’t rejoice or embrace it. But it’s ours to live. So why not live it the way we want? We get to choose everything. We do what we do for whatever reason we do it. It’s all good. There’s no need for stress. Today is today. I will live it the best way that I can. I will do what I can do, and when I can’t do anything more or anything else, then I will stop, and that is okay.

July 26th, 2019 | Comments Off on yesterday was a really great day

July 26, 2019.  Miracles and magic.  What a mind boggling tangle of events and circumstances and decisions that took place over a span of who knows how many years, in order for yesterday to happen.  We had a fare thee well lunch get together for a coworker who is taking his family on a world-wide home-schooling cultural immersion experience for the year, which itself is a marvelous thing to do!  My heart stirs with delight (or maybe jealousy) at the thought of the richness of such an experience, and all the new perspectives they will take in, that they might never know otherwise.  How rich!!

It’s always nice to have a social moment with my coworkers, and it was a beautiful sunny day.  We have such a crushing workload that it’s a special treat to take a break at all, let alone gather to dine in a quaint courtyard beer garden.  The luncheon organizer so thoughtfully invited former coworkers to join us, for which I am so grateful.  It felt like a grand reunion, seeing those shining smiling faces of people who are part of my work family.  My former boss!

As we gather, in walks another familiar face, coincidentally out for lunch.  Another former coworker, this one a retired senior manager.  And then, not far behind him, another retired senior manager.  Such commotion of greetings and what brings you heres and how have you beens.  Embraces!  I hugged them all, all three of my former managers.  They were all sun tanned and vibrant, clearly happy in their respective retirements.  These were my people, my family, from my former organization where we worked so closely for over 20 years.  It was wonderfully energizing to see them.  Coincidences – the two are friends and get together socially — they’re both so fit, I envision them playing raquetball or squash or tennis, then having lunch at a beer garden.  Also, my new boss was there, and it was the first time he met the old boss.  I whispered to my coworker nearby, meet the new boss, not the same as the old boss…     …..my old boss is a saint.  I miss him.

And another coworker coincidentally knew one of the senior managers through a soccer connection, years ago, when their children were young.  It was quite something, the mix of old and new, and it was sort of neat to see in my periphery the India team smiling and observing our greetings.  It gave them a glimpse at our history.  It felt good to share a different and personal perspective with them.

Our Padawan made an appearance. He strode in, a cloud of static whirling about him, and mingled brusquely.  We’ve lost him to the dark side, our young Vader.  It’s a sad thing to have watched unfold, through the years.  The junctures could have just as readily been convergent, as divergent.  I attribute it to the blindness that ego produces.  Maybe I could have affected the outcome, if I’d have been more involved in his development.  I might have seen the junctures approaching and guided him gently in the direction of convergence.  I’m stretched in too many directions to be able to attend to everything. We’re all adult professionals and as such are expected to be professionally cooperative.  He’s alienated himself from many of us, by now. It’s a shame. He has so much energy and ability; he could be so productive, he could contribute much.  He just can’t see the forest for the trees.  It’s sad.

Traffic was wretched, perhaps even more than usual, but I was energized from being with my people.

I tried to connect with J on the way home, since I was going past her place, but she was on the road too.  We are both pressed for time, orchestrating our every movement so that we can somehow manage to do all that we have to do for our families, our homes, and our livelihoods.  Life is a scramble for us and I treasure our friendship.  We’re sort of in the same boat, in many ways.  Single and self reliant full time working moms.  There was a construction detour and I ended up taking an alternate route that reminded me to stop by Goodwill and look for a kitten harness necessary to  help keep my man child’s 6 week old kitten safe and alive during our upcoming camping trip, and lo and behold, guess what I found?  Yep, new in package XXS, perfect made to order harness.  Exactly what I needed, plus a short scratching post and fishnet, also exactly what I needed.  All for 10 bucks shy.

The heavens poured blessings upon blessings on me.  What a day!  I felt so good, so energized.

The world looked different to me.  I noticed it while standing in my kitchen, then wandered out to the deck and looked around, and returned indoors to gaze about some more.  If I could find an analogy to describe how it looked different, the best I can do for now is a transparency slider.  It was as though the slider was moved to fully visible, whereas it was formerly some percentage obscured, like through a film.  Through a glass darkly.  Everything seemed more solid, more clear, more real.  In contrast to my ‘normal’ view where it’s like everything is behind a screen filled with a murky water-like substance, filtered.

I thought that this must be what it feels like to feel human, and to feel normal.  I thought that might be what most people feel like, how they see the world.  Solid, physical, real, safe. The act of just being felt effortless and sustainable. It was a good feeling.

It didn’t last long, alas, but I am glad to have experienced that glimpse, to have tasted that clarity.

September 29th, 2016 | Comments Off on lemonade

Today I am being a mom.  Sure, we are swimming in an ocean of grief right now, but I am shaking my fist at the sky and choosing to let love and the breath of life prevail.  I saved myself a 3+ hour commute and stayed home today.  Thank you salaried-job-gods-of-payroll.

live

live

When the kids return from school, they will be greeted with a smiling mother with open arms.  The house smells of freshly baked banana bread.  The washing machine is contentedly agitating the residue of fun times from their skanky dirty clothes.  When dinner time arrives, their tummies will be filled with the warm yumminess of ‘taco rice’…   …whatever the heck it is.  They love it, and by golly, I’m serving it to them tonight.  Their stepmom or grandma makes it, and they both rave over it.  I’m pretty sure I can come up with something at least, if not more, tasty.

Yes, I know that I am filling holes with bandaids.  But that’s the thing.  We are alive and breathing and we have today.  I am embracing today with all the love and all the energy and all the gratitude that I have.  I don’t get to be a stay-at-home mom every day.  But today is special.

Today I do.

Posted in family, love, thankfulness
June 27th, 2016 | Comments Off on across the universe

…limitless, undying love which shines around me like a million suns…

tree_kaleidoscope_curly

seeing things differently

I am always looking for deeper understanding regarding this portion of breath I’ve been given.  Probably I’m late to the party, but it occurs to me that so often we (going grandiose here with a sweeping generalization) get caught unawares and find ourselves stuck in thoughts that we accept as truth without ever questioning from whence they come.  If we were to stop for a moment, before we think the thought, or rather, before we finish the thought and experience the associated emotions that accompany that thought, we just might realize that there is no foundation in that thought, and it can therefore be dismissed.  Poof!  Gone!  Emotional impact averted.

Dr. Wayne Dyer mentions this very thing in Excuses Be Gone — referring to the Virus of the Mind as described by Richard Brodie.  There’s a word to describe this phenomenon. Meme.

A meme (/?mi?m/ MEEM) is “an idea, behavior, or style that spreads from person to person within a culture”.

That’s all fine and good, but I can feed my brain with deep and rich words all the day long and never get anywhere.  I ponder these things, again and again, yet somehow I tend to miss the element that allows the information to sink in and become firmly rooted.  Probably this is a side effect of my general life coping mechanism, in which I remember hooks and tags that will lead me to the information I need, because keeping an active reference open at all times is simply overwhelming (for me).  This, also, is why I write!  Once I capture these thoughts, I can safely let them go, and therefore de-clutter my mind.

All that aside, it’s been a life-long hunger, this need to separate the wheat from the chaff, and get down to the meat of the matter, any matter.  Truth.  With a capital T.  Hence the persistent Why?

I’ve been swimming against the current.  It’s exhausting.  The preacher had it figured out.  It’s pretty much all spelled out in Ecclesiastes.  You can be rich.  You can be poor.  You can be weak.  You can be strong.  You can be well.  You can be sick.  You can be wise.  You can be foolish.  Ultimately, what matters?  We all, at some point, die.  This life, this breath, is our portion.  It’s all that we have.  It’s a gift.  A gift!

A gift is a beautiful thing.  It’s a treasure, to be enjoyed, not wasted.  It’s a smile to be shared.

Recently I found myself pondering this deeply, thinking outside the box, so to speak.  Like having a conversation with a young child.  Why are there stars? I have some beautiful memories of conversations like this.  All the why questions, from a young and beautiful soul, seeking wisdom from an adult.  Only this time, I was the young and beautiful soul, and no matter which angle I approached my question, the answer was the same, delivered in a wash of warmth and light, a glowing infusion of love.  It was a nebulous question, really.  Something about life, and how I should be living it.  With each angle, I would pose it another way.  What about this?   What about that?  Point.  Counterpoint.  For as many facets carved in a gem, I would approach from every angle I could imagine.  With every wash of understanding that flowed over, through and around me, I would laugh in delight as it sunk in.

There is nothing to worry about.  Nothing.  You are safe.  You are part of a love that spans the universe and beyond, from forever to forever.  Life is beautiful.  You are alive.  You are beautiful.  Let each moment’s focus be joyful, because everything is going to be okay.  Everything IS okay.  This is how life should be lived.  Eyes wide open.  Heart wide open.  Joyful.  Each moment a moment of giddy delight.

March 31st, 2016 | 1 Comment »

I was going to title this “threads”, but when I fired up my computer, Pandora gave me Mason Jennings crooning something about your love.  What could I do, but comply?  It’s because, ultimately, this post will come around to being about a declaration of harmony and gratitude for such a love that I couldn’t have even imagined had I not lived the life I’ve lived.  The thread.  Mason Jennings.  One of the sweetest early memories of this present love was a silly karaoke session we had on one of our first evenings together.  It was winter time.  Possibly New Year’s Eve.  He had come over, and we were singing, but mostly I was singing and trying to get him to sing.  I can be persuasive.  Ahem.  So I eventually did get him to sing, and the song he chose was a Mason Jennings song (Your New Man –it’s a hoot!).  So.  There you go.

I’ll get back to him.  Meanwhile, I’ve just remembered the original thread I had in mind.  I was reflecting on past loves and moments.  I was thinking about the trials and lessons and various moments of beauty and pain and sorrow, and I was thinking about who remains in my life now, who has a particular place reserved in me, in my heart, just for them.  There are only a few.  I’ve always loved deeply and fully, with whomever I was loving deeply and fully at the time.  With time, however, healing has occurred and left remaining a warm and comfortable glow in which I finally see that I have lovingly let go those who needed to be let go, and loving retained in a gentle and altruistic way those who have their own special place in my life.  Everyone who has ever been has a very special place in my heart, in the depth of my memories.  But not everyone remains in my life, in my real world here and now.

I think back to the beginning.  JJW.  The father of my first two  unborn.  We were so young.  We were kids ourselves.  Those children weren’t meant to be.  We weren’t meant to be.  Yet today, here, now, we are friends.  We see a glimpse of each others’ lives from afar.  He has a wonderful wife, a true soul connection, a beautiful life that could not have been had we not been.  I am so happy that he found her and that he’s lived the rich and beautiful life that he’s lived.  Who are we to each other now?  Warm friends from childhood.  Nerds.  We reveal our stupid silly nerdy quirky selves in the occasional Facebook posts.  JJW.  Yes, he has a place in my life.  Smiley face.

Who’s next in my OCD lineup of present life former loves?  Oh.  JEM.  We text each other on our respective birthdays every year.  Every year!  Once in a while we’ll call, maybe once a year.  We inquire about family members, laugh about goofy old times, describe our children to each other.  It’s always sweet and sincere.  Genuine.  It’s especially sweet because we had ended badly, with such a sour taste remaining for so very many years.  I’m always grateful for this particular friendship, because my heart is so heavy when sourness lingers.

Then there’s DAN.  Mister Divorce Rebound.  Perhaps that’s the main reason why he lingers in the periphery of my present life, if Facebook status can be considered present life periphery.  I will probably always have a fondness for the one who gave me a glimpse of the possibilities that life held post-divorce.  Hope!  Of course we could never be, but I think we were meant to be when we were.  Maybe, also, we can be real life friends now, as with JEM, because enough years have passed to let the bitterness of the breaks fade and be replaced with the brightness of younger days.

This brings me to BXD.  Surely he’ll post a comment that I should have given him the BFD tag when I wasn’t able to google a middle initial in 30 seconds or less.  I think we each suffered our own kind of anguish and had to work through some layers of bitterness before the friendship was able to re-emerge.  I am delighted and grateful that it survives.  He is like a lifeline to me, because he understands the incomprehensible dark sides that are so  hard for anyone to understand.  He understands, because he lives with it too.  Depression.  The elephant in the room.  He is so refreshingly logical that I can fully trust that anything that I might run by him will be evaluated clearly, completely, and truthfully.  Also, our professional fields  have some overlap, so there’s something to be said about being able to talk shop.  We share sporadic flurries of email communications a few times a year.

As I’m finding these words to describe these chapters of my life, I’m counting the calendar time during which such life moments were defined.  Four years with JJW.  One year with JEM.  Four months with DAN.  Two, maybe three months with BXD.  Friendships fostered during a span of five and half years of my life.  I love that what surfaces in the here and now with all these friends is the laugh.  We chuckle.  We grin.  We snicker.  We chide.  The relationships we have are all grounded in levity and warmth.  It’s a beautiful thing.

And this brings me to the here and now, here and now.  EHB.  Nearly sixteen months and it’s as fresh and sweet and fun as the day we met.  We have so much fun together!  We laugh!  We talk for hours about all sorts of deep and interesting or crazy and ridiculous things.  We toil over projects at his place or mine, always with a smile and a spring in the step.  I wonder how much of our compatibility is merely because I finally sorted myself out.  Maybe he recently sorted himself out too, or maybe we both found ourselves ready at the same time, so somehow, miraculously, we just fit.  I don’t think I can explain it, but I certainly am grateful for it!

He’s nerdy.  I don’t know how many people actually know that about him.  I doubt very many.  He’s a cool cat on the exterior.  I love that he’s nerdy, and I love that he’s a cool cat too.

He’s thoughtful.  He’s a very internal person, so he thinks deeply about the things he thinks about.  I can take him seriously.

He’s fun.

Integrity means something to him.  I could go on and on, but I was working towards a conclusion of sorts.

The other day I told him that we should start counting down our anniversary (given that we have an anniversary), starting at 40, because it seems like we will have to be together that long in order to do the things together that we want to do.  All the books to read, the movies to see, the podcasts to hear, the places to go.  There is so much living to live!

And so I’ve finally come to the point of all this.  I’m finally here!  I wandered down paths with all sorts of twists and turns until now.  Every moment had its value.  And through it all, some friendships remain like glowing embers, softly warming the outer reaches of my heart.  I think I can say that I am truly making peace with my past, that I like my present, and that I have hope for my future.  I think I am finally on my way to getting over myself, so I am finally on my way!

 

February 6th, 2016 | Comments Off on you’re already home where you feel loved

Put your dreams away for now, I won’t see you for some time…
I am lost in my mind, I get lost in my mind…
Mama once told me “you’re already home where you feel loved”
I am lost in my mind, I get lost in my mind…

Oh my brother, your wisdom is older than me.  Oh my brother, don’t you worry about me!
Don’t you worry, don’t you worry, don’t worry about me…

all you need is love ... love is all you need

all you need is love … love is all you need

I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Again.  I’m making a serious effort to understand myself and the way I form my thoughts and the channels that I follow… I’m very conscious of time these days. I’m very aware of the years. I’ve arrived at this place called mid-life. My indentured servitude spans nearly 30 years. I have two young children. It’s up to me to shape them, form them and prepare them for life. And how can I do that, if I don’t have it figured out myself?! There’s a whole new generation of young people in my life, looking to me for guidance, and what can I give them? I’m fumbling along under a facade waving the fake it till you make it flag and hoping that nobody notices that I really don’t have it all going on. (To be fair to myself, I do actually have almost everything going on –I’m just trying to wrangle this emotional thangggggg…..)

I’ve been thinking about human behaviors. I’ve been observing the way insecurity manifests in people and myself. I’ve been thinking about self destructive thoughts a lot lately, and wondering where they come from, why they’re there, how to obliterate them, etc… It occurs to me that they are entirely manufactured! Not that that is any big news. I’ve known that all along, but somehow I am beginning to let it sink in, that any negative thoughts originate within myself. So if they’re coming from me, I can change my mind, and turn that ship around.  Easily enough said.

Certain thought streams tend to short circuit to emotionally unattractive destinations.  I intend to repair my mother board so that my thought streams lead to healthy destinations.

One of the show stoppers is that dangerous zone of caring what others think.  Why so much concern?  Why ANY concern?  Judgment…   It’s such a slippery slope!  The reality of the matter is that I don’t know what another person thinks or feels. Those thoughts are entirely theirs. Am I spending my time passing judgment on the people in my sphere?  Or  do I simply love them?  Ummm.  I simply love them.  So, uhhhh, hello?  Stands to reason, doesn’t it, in the most simplistic way, that not too many, if any for that matter, are spending time passing judgment on me.  Why would I bother to waste any brain space on wondering or dreading what others might think of me?  Good grief! And even if I were to play the devil’s advocate, what kind of ugliness might someone dredge up on me?  Her.  Yeah her.  She goes to work every day.  Yeah.  Imagine that.  She pays her bills.  Amazing. She lives within her means.  Unbelievable.  She takes care of her family.  Whoa.  She saves for a rainy day.  What the what?  She tries to make people smile.  Crazy.  Oh sure, she gets emo once in a while. She’s a sensitive creature with an empathetic nature, so of course the travails of others can take their toll if she’s not careful, but she’s wicked smart and kind of funny, so hey.  She’s all right.  Mmmmm hmmmmm, yes ma’am.  She’s all right.

Seriously.  It’s ridiculous to waste time and life energy on wondering what others think, and worse yet, assuming what they think.  That’s a one-man-band, honey.  It’s ALL IN YOUR HEAD!!!!  SMH…

Okay.  Sure.  I have issues.  Daddy issues.  I’ve written about it before.  WHY DIDN’T HE CARE ABOUT ME?  WHY DIDN’T I MATTER TO HIM?  etc etc etc.  The thing is, I did matter to him.  I just didn’t recognize it.  Where he could display his love, affection and admiration to and for my sisters, somehow he was unable to convey it to me.  Maybe, all along, I’ve felt irrelevant only because I’m not the charming vivacious spitfires that my sisters are.  Maybe it was difficult for him to find a way to reach me.  Who knows?!  But the fact is that I’ve carried an invalid assumption along with me for most of my life, that I somehow just don’t quite measure up to what I should.  And don’t you see?  That’s the comparison game!  Comparing myself to my sisters!  We are apples and oranges (as well as peas in a pod).  Oh how I love my sisters!!!  They are amazing people!  And we are beautiful in our differences and in our similarities.  As beautiful and amazing as they are, I am as well!  I just wasn’t tuned in to the same bat channel.  So I didn’t get the message.  That is SO tragic!!!  Fifty years old and only now just dawning.

Anyway.

One way or another, this post was meant to be about love, and how you’re home where you feel loved.  All this blah blah blah about the great “why am I the way I am?” question, but the crux of the matter and the bottom line is that happiness is that place where we feel home, where we are home.

I feel home.

This.

This is what life and love are all about.  This is everything.  Now is now. I’m living it. Now! I laugh, I smile, I hug my children. I listen.  I act silly.  I cook. I eat. I work. I take care of business. I keep up my home. I do laundry. I do dishes. I love.

I am happy.