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May Day. Celebrate the earth, a time of new beginnings. Fertility. Spring. I like the possibility of it all. It was a pretty drive back to the city, a weekend in the place that makes me feel whole. Can a place make you feel put together and centered? Yes, and so can people. Martin Buber would be so proud of me. Except, it's easy to get away from the simple philosophy of life. Everyone needs their own approach. What works for some does not always work for me. I don't like second chances, just a time to try something new.
Scare is not the correct word. I am frightened by the way he affects me. Sometimes when he is looking in my eyes, I feel like he is looking right into me. Maybe he is. The truth is that I am afraid of losing control. He came to town last night. I wanted to see him. I was shaking as he sat looking at me - with that electric smile. I truthfully don't want to resist him. I tried. So what is the battle with me? Isn't this what love is all about, being crazy for someone? Good God, yes.
He was there again, when I woke up. I was restless through the night, but when I wake up – I expect it to have been a dream. My mother used to tell me when I was little, "you have to live for yourself, before you can live for someone else." I used to carry these words like a banner, hell-bent on making it on my own. I couldn't settle for anything, always out for the next adventure. I've realized with age that she simply wanted me to avoid her mistakes. I haven't, and I am well rounded because of them.
I understand my feelings and emotions through the act of moving my pen (or cursor). I have a hard time talking with the people that know and love me the most – so, my outlet is on the corner of a napkin, the back of a receipt, an email or paper. Today I wrote it all down, and she didn't understand. Perhaps that's just it; a friend that doesn't understand may not be the friend I thought she was. It doesn't have to be this complicated. Maybe I expect too much or give them too much credit. Expectations are just that.
I woke up this morning feeling happy. This isn't unusual, but lately it has been monotone: another day, here I go. But, today was good. My body was still tingling from the night before, still aware of him. I could have stayed there all day, and been the happiest woman in the world. I should have. I lose my train of thought with him; I get carried away in his eyes. His smile warms my entire body, entire body! He holds onto me as if I'm the last person on earth, he looks at me with marvel. It is returned.
I had an argument; it was relieving and frustrating. He knows me well enough to tell what I am thinking; we've been through it so many times that he sees it coming. Still, I can't do anything about it. Clarification: I can, and I don't. Frustration: I feel what is welling up, what I want to say - I hear it echo in my head, and still I don't say it. I'm too afraid to hurt his feelings. Too afraid to admit what I have not yet accepted. Why can't I? Wouldn't I be happier? Yes. But would I wonder?
I've never seen him so happy. Every sister is supposed to be skeptical of the bride, right? I am happy for him. For me, I think I'm afraid to make a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes; I can't expect myself to be perfect! No one actually knows without a shadow of a doubt, right? I already ran away once. It was hard, it was emotional and I wondered for a long time. But through my wondering I may have missed something even better. I think the problem is that doing something that is right for me is sometimes interpreted as "selfish".
I am grateful for my Mother; for all mothers who are strong and beautiful within their families. I watched my mother holding a friend's baby, and it made me sad for her loss, for mine. Sometimes I still expect to see a round belly, pray for it. It is a void, a painful hole. Sometimes I try to fill it with logic, there is none. Nothing can make sense of this, this absent flesh. I worked hard to feel okay today, enjoying the beautiful spring day. The warm sun, the possibilities of spring. All I can do is look forward.
Today I looked at the different people in my life. There are the encouragers, helpers, the confidants, those that appear to look out for the best – and don't, the true foes, lovers, and a few that just don't seem to fit. Sometimes I feel that my issues are my own, to be addressed by me – but no one is without baggage. All that somehow fit within my puzzle also require my position. I assume I play a different role to everyone; I hope that I am seen positively. Maybe this is part of my issue. I can't always be "positive".
The day is long, I feel worn out and sick. I've always heard the phrase "sick and tired", this is a good description. I am tired of the city, the scowls and unapologetic bumps. Everyone is always rushing around, trying to get through life with the idea that their life and schedule is more important than anyone else's. Sometimes I just want to shake them and shout to them; "stop scowling!", "life is beautiful!" We should all be more grateful. Time on earth is short, our chances for Carpe Diem are dwindling – and everyday we scowl. Maybe that is why.
It's hard to think with so much noise. Is it noise in the exterior, or is it in my interior? I'm certainly trying to sort through too much. Too much at once? Is that possible? Aren't humans supposed to be well oiled machines, versed in the art of dealing with issues and problems? Cognitive problem solvers. I'd rather that someone else did the problem solving, I'll just go along for the fun stuff. I feel foolish not knowing how to say how I feel, but sometimes I can't even admit it to myself. That would the first step, wouldn't it?
I used to get so lost in the simplicity of nature. Total appreciation. The kind that isn't thrown over my shoulder, or worn around my neck. I sought it out; the sun at dawn, peaking over the mountains; the pine trees smacking up above. The blue rimmed Manitou's, the perfect Indian Paintbrush and the hot summer wind. How does one lose that ambition? If I miss it, it isn't lost. I am that "reluctant enthusiast", the "part-time crusader." What are my ideals? How do you establish them? Was there a handbook to life that I didn't get? The first step.
How to determine an ideal. What I focus on, what I spend my time and resources on. I know what makes me happy. Am I "happy"? How long has it been? This is stressing me. When do you know when you have been established, where is this guide? I am so tired of feeling lost. All it ever takes is a confession to myself; honesty. Maybe I wouldn't feel so utterly suppressed if I could just say what I'm thinking. The first step. Who am I living for? Why can't I just do this – go with my heart? Just live.
The weather was thick today; the air full of moisture, not quite cold. It hung over the water, with no wind to carry it - creating an unceasing veil of fog. Our voices echoed, even the sound of our shoes on the pavement reverberated. Everything was very still, and peaceful. Maybe it was the hangover that had me so reflective, or the helping of Mary's cookies. I stare out at Lake Huron, with nothing in particular to ponder. It seems I'm always trying to figure something out, sort through some disheveled heap of emotions – now, happily - I just sit.
Another gray day. We pulled through the thick layer of clouds, moving quickly. The sun was shining brilliantly on the other side. Such a difference from this and the layer of thick grime blanketing everything below. I sat, enthralled with the view pouring out before me; the clouds had a perfect, never-ending rolling effect. It was intoxicating; beautiful. I wanted to get out of my seat and run out into the sky, dragging my toes in the marshmallow fluff. Its amazing what a little bit of beauty can do for the soul, what some sunshine can do for the gray.
Sometimes I get an idea of what I want life to feel like. I mean feel. At life's most important, defining, exhilarating or exciting moments – you remember the feeling. Sometimes, when I'm not expecting it, the feeling comes back. Today I was thinking about having a refrigerator full of organic vegetables and soymilk, and I got the feeling. Sounds ridiculous. I understand it as being part of this idea for the life that I want – natural and real. Down to earth and connected, experienced, vigorous and whole. Then I ask myself "Why am I not living that life right now?"
Maybe the things that I thought were issues - really aren't. Maybe the burdens that I carry around are just flecks of life that are developing me into something much greater than I thought possible. A sand castle. There is always something that knocks me down, and yet I can always be built up with the correct engineering. Some days I wake up feeling down. I know why. I deny myself the things that make me happy. Thinking that if I just do what I am supposed to – then eventually, it will all work out. Who am I living for?
Every once in a while I stand next to myself, like a stranger. I look in, I look at my face. I look at my habits, listen to my words. This is me. This is the person that the world sees. It's startling in a lot of ways, and sometimes disheartening. Sometimes I catch myself doing this with the important people in my life. When I really look at their features, I don't always recognize them. It is as if I have all of these unfamiliar faces moving in and out of my life. I recognize their voices; their actions.
I have a terrible memory. I was asked once what my first memory of childhood is and I was baffled. I have a hard time remembering last week, how am I supposed to remember what was going on around me at three or four years old? Maybe I should take that herbal supplement for memory. What is that, St. John's Wort? No, that's for depression. Maybe I need that too. Ginkoba. Maybe I should just start writing everything down now, so that when I am old I will remember my life. I'll remember Ireland from the tattoo on my belly…
My first memory is of my mother. We were in the front room; she was sitting in the rocking chair next to the fireplace. I was milling about the room, acting like a toddler. She said to me, "Why don't you come over here and sit on my lap?" I looked over at her and said "Why?" Her response was, "because someday you'll be too big to sit on my lap." I sat there, happily, with my head against her chest as she stroked my hair and I thought to myself, that's crazy Mom; I will never be that big.
She sits with her face turned up to the warm sun. Winter seems like only a bad dream now. Winter was not a good season. She takes a long drag on her cigarette, inhaling all that she can of the small delight. The smoke burns its way out through her nostrils, she watches the breeze chase it away. She looks down at her wet shoes and she picks at her nails. She closes her eyes, looks out at the harbor and straightens her shirt. She stamps out her cigarette and turns toward the door, pulling on the cold metal handle.
Prayer of St. Theresa: "May today there be peace within. May you trust your highest power that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content knowing you are a child of God." Every day I read this, it may not be the first thing I do, or the last… but, I read it because it makes me feel centered. It gives me focus.
I read a quote that described a person always waiting for happiness. It wasn't just a per chance thing, it was a story about those who wait for the obstacles of life to dissipate. "If I can just make it through this, then there will be nothing to keep me from being happy." The obstacles never stop coming; meanwhile, my life is soaring past me – with my happiness. There is no specific time to be happy, it is apparent that you do the best you can and happiness becomes an innate quality. The story of waiting has gotten too familiar.
It's a funny thing, guilt. Right when you think that it's going to take over, you forget about it for a day. Then there's something… something that triggers it, and the emotions start running again. The emotions grab onto your heart - wrench on it, you get a ball in the back of your throat, and it hurts. You swallow hard and the dry uncomfortable feeling doesn't go away. Time does not heal all wounds; time allows those emotions to re-surface. Time allows for that knot in your throat to become calloused, never going anywhere but creating a bigger problem…
I love the way he looks at me, his smell, his big hands. I love when he hugs me, wraps himself around me and kisses the top of my head. When he smiles, he gets tiny wrinkles around his eyes. When he smiles, I melt. I love the way he kisses me, every time more intense than the last. I love the way he watches me; I act as if I don't notice. He holds onto me as if I'm about to disappear. I bury my face in his chest when I am upset, I love every part of him.
It sucks when I know that I am making a mistake. I brush it off and justify to myself that I have everything under control. Honestly, that's laughable. Have I ever had anything under control? I mean anything… nope. If I get to a stable position, I fuck something up. I place myself back on the tracks, "a train wreck…waiting to happen…" If I get one thing roped in, something else runs off. I hurt everyone that loves me, I'm reckless. I know that I love him; I love him so much that it hurts. And I just give it.
I dug my heels into the floor in front of me, clenched my fists. I tried to relieve some of the tension that I felt building up in my calves. What have I just done? I was so scared to see the look on his face. I was scared to look at him; I knew everything that I felt for him would reaffirm itself. It was. What emotion is missing that I am able to hurt someone so absolutely incredible? I just stood there! I was afraid to turn around; I didn't want to see him walking away from me.
I woke up this morning feeling totally empty. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to stand or feel the weight of my legs. How do you ignore a day? That would be a great self help book, "Ignore this Day"… You really can ignore the problems in your life; you can sail along as if life doesn't require anything from you - that no one is ever going to expect anything from you. It's easy; just don't ever do any self-evaluating. Don't ever look at your mistakes; your dysfunctional habits make you unique! This, my forte.
I stood there, looking out at San Francisco. Haight-Ashbury, the land of the Dead, Janis Joplin - young hippies that still carry the flag. Smoke some grass, live simply, love one another. Seems like a sweet way to live. The view was beautiful. So much out there, I threw my rose to the romance, and then I turned and faced the wreck waiting for me: An ugly, all too common screaming match that I saw becoming my life. I saw myself standing there at 40, wrinkles around my eyes, still fighting myself. There has to be an end to this.
It is amazing to wake up in a different body; in a different place, a different frame of mind, a different life. I did this today. I stood there in front of the mirror and a smile crept across my face. It's really not that difficult to do what is right. There is an innate sense in all of us that allows us to know what our soul needs. Mine needs him. He is the second half of me that wakes up and faces life from a different direction, and we meet somewhere in the middle. He carries my heart.
I've never been able to stop and reflect back in such a detailed way. I was given a quote: "If God brings you to it, he will bring you through it…" Nothing has taken me down, hurt me from which I could not recover and even when it feels that I can no longer deal with something – I can. I do. I continue to figure out what my life requires, what my soul needs from me. I woke up happy today. I knew that I would feel exhausted, but it is the adrenaline of knowing what direction I am headed.
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