Regards

I have none.

Discarded like a stranger.
Disregarded as he fucked a friend.
Empathy has escaped and I can only scream at him in my dreams for not listening.  I had warned him in the moonlight by the river.  He never listens.  Listened. 
He heard only his own darkness and appeased it.
So I offer up a cup of truth.  He was not magnificent.  He was worse.  He was the embodiment of everything I never hoped he would be.
He was.  He no longer is.  To me.
He missed the window.  I had left it open for a bit.  A sanctuary if he had chosen to turn around.
He didn't.  He chased dangling carrots instead. 
Through my markings, I tried to reach.  But you can't save the heartless. So he is left disregarded.  Empty.
I'd like to hurt him as much in return but I just don't have it in me.  I am not who he is.
That is why.
That is this.
That is all.

Bricks

I live in a big house.  It’s not a mansion of sorts but for wee old me, it’s big enough.  3 stories of which are not used except a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom.  I tell you this for a reason of which you’ll come to understand.  Read on.

Houses are symbolic of the self.  In the instance that you know me or actually read this rubbish that I write you’ve come to understand there are some pieces of the puzzle that haven’t exactly sorted themselves into the whole quite yet.  My house has been like this.  Rooms painted colors that I didn’t really vibe with, empty spaces and walls, things from my past that no longer suited who I’ve become etc. etc. – you get the gist.  A half ass ensembled structure housing me.  Get it yet?

This Fall I decided that it was proper time to work on the house.  On every level.  Existentially, physically, structurally….etc….etc…So, I embarked in a redecoration effort of the soul.  Material objects, as well as my conscious.  I enlisted the help of my BFF who has a flair for design and I enlisted the help of a therapist.  Two crucial elements in this process. 

I had come leaps bounds in a short amount of time – feeling as if I just might do this, and do this right.  Fix my house and all that lay within and then some.  I went sort of into a phase of riding on a euphoric high of rediscovery, hope, and excitement.  The world was my oyster.  I was changing the colors of my life.  I was getting there.  And…then…the fucking chair never came in.  This one chair that was supposed to complete the room.  The one chair that I needed to complete my ‘space’ – my now ‘being’, was lost in transit somewhere, lost in a state of coloring fabric and velvet undertones.  And then things came to a screeching halt.  The redesign faded quickly into a repetitive pattern of distain for existsence….

Stupid traffic jams of life. 

And then it hit me.  I had escaped all of the realistic undertones by riding on a high of things to come, not what was, so in essence, I was still…still.  My house wasn’t ready to be to finished because I was distracted from the real work.  Is this vibing?  My house wasn’t ready to be finished because I wasn’t even close to being a ¼ of the way there yet.  It wasn’t about the structure of walls; it was the structure of my humanity that was still in process.  Until that was done, the chair would never come.

I didn’t like this.  I rebelled like a motherfucker.  I did stupid things.  I am an impatient soul.  I can’t help it.  However, I then grew tired and stopped.  I got back to the foundational work.  The most important bit to build this ‘house’.  I slowly covered gaps with cement to make it stronger.  I allowed myself to be in it.  One step forward, 5 steps back. 10 steps forward, 3 steps back.  Life.

I got the call on Friday.  The chair has been shipped.  I think I’m ready for that room to be complete now.  There are 3 more rooms to go that are in process.  By the spring, I think it will be a beautiful place to be. 

Make sense?

Thanks for listening. 

Rock City and Me - Like Peas and Carrots Again...

Beck and I always talk about the effects of being 30,000 feet in the air.  It makes you think.  Maybe it’s the quiet, the vulnerability, the passing over the energy of new lands – whatever it is, I’m not sure but it makes my mind sort of melt and the desire to purge every thought appears.  

Today I escaped the office for a bit and walked around Detroit.  It was cold out but I felt sort of numb so I didn’t notice.  I had my headphones in, sunglasses on, sort of lost in thought and air and time roaming the streets wishing I had my camera to capture some of the beauty hidden within this dilapidated city.  

I had walked back there to see if I could catch a glimpse of some sunlight on my face, but he wasn’t around.  I walked slowly, which isn’t really like me.  I have ridiculously long legs.  I basically sprint everywhere.  But it was calming.  Just breathing.  Just being.  Getting lost in my head for a bit and imagining life being different.  It seemed fitting to peer through empty windows of empty buildings.  

Most people think you’re insane to walk around Detroit alone but it doesn’t scare me.  I have sort of fallen in love with the city over the past couple of years.  It reminds me of myself.  Something sort of broken down, that used to be beautiful and thriving - and that one day might be great again.  Maybe that sounds like some fluffy literary symbolism but it’s how I feel.  I find comfort in Detroit.  Or perhaps things that dwell within.  I find comfort in the hope of it all.  

I thought about my life.  The goodness of it.  The sadness of it.  The loathness of it over the past couple of years.  The hopefulness of it.  Maybe it’s my city of hope.  The place I need to go to in order to be reminded that anything can be rebuilt.

Last night a soul friend held my hand and said nice things.  I know he wants me to be o.k., to find my happiness.  I want that too.  I’m trying.  I just get lost sometimes and veer down the wrong path.  More so, I just get tired.  Fighting for yourself is exhausting – but what else can you do?  

Anyway, I digress….Detroit.  There is beauty and life within that city and for whatever reason it came into my life, I’m grateful.  There is an ellipsis there.  It’s not over.  There is just a pause of things to come.  Like this.  Like me……

Thanks for listening.  

Passing Ships

There are moments when you meet someone and your world sort of stops.  It’s like finding a long lost part of yourself and immediately you miss what never was.  Because it can’t be.  Because you’ve met them 16 years too late and there’s a ginormous piece of granite separating you.

Or something like that.

It’s difficult to rationalize soul connections.  Why do you meet?  What are they supposed to show you, teach you, give you?  And why, at times, does it seem so treacherous that the only way for someone to give you what you need is to ultimately give you nothing more than the mere knowledge that they exist?

The unscratchable itch that tests every boundary of resistance.  I have never done well with boundaries.  I cross them all of the time.  It’s a challenge of epic proportions.  

And maybe there is a moment when he let's you see him under a street light and for a second you can close your eyes and pretend that he will just exist there, in light, beside you.  And maybe in that moment you fall in love.  Maybe. 

There is gratitude in knowing one can feel.  Even if it’s wrong.  I miss what never was.  Greatly.

I shake

The snow out of my hair.  I get up and change the song that spins.  

Every month leads me away.  Every moment of laughter I grow.  I'm tired.  I've been trying for a bit to believe that there is something greater.  There really isn't.  You fill the gaps.  That's what I do.  Fill the gaps.  But at the end of the day, it's all the same.  The memory of a life that wasn't.  Quiet reckoning. 

I remember laughter. 

I like to keep some things to my self.  Self.  My. 

I was pretty when he held my head in his hands and asked for me to not leave - no matter what.  It was simple then, when it was codependent.  Addicted to being.  Fuck. 

The most wretched story of all time.  Love. 

Last Mile

I’m tired.  It’s been sort of a universal life-shifting week.  Signs popping out behind every corner that I turned.  All pointing ahead.  This is it.  The last of it.  The last mile.  All of these years of looking behind me are done now.

I know this to be true.

Something shifted in me.  I stopped fighting and when I stopped fighting I released it.  It’s funny how you can be ¾ of a mile to the finish line without an ounce of energy left, about to quit before you finish what you started and then this surge of something comes in, takes over and just sort of pushes you across.  You might collapse when you get there, but you made it over.  By Sunday night, I had made it.  By Monday, I collapsed.  But I had made it.  I had won the great race against myself.  After all of this time. 

And might I be bold enough to say that I am proud of what I have done.  I did it in my own quiet, chaotic and often tormented way, year after year, mile after mile. But I did it. 

The 29-year-old girl that chose the path of most resistance finally came to the end of the road at 37.  Scarred, bruised, and having fallen 1000 times but I got to the end of that fucking path. 

You know how they say when you’re running a race, if you look backwards to see who’s chasing you, you will never win.  You will have lost a second and taken yourself out of focus and you will falter.  Well I could never win because I have been doing just that for almost 9 years of my life.  Isn’t it silly to stop yourself from winning because you’re too busy looking backwards at something that isn’t there anymore?

I guess it’s something we all do in our own way.  Perhaps I just did it longer than most.  Perhaps it’s because I had always wanted to believe in happy endings.  That fighting for something meant that it was supposed to be.  But what if you’re only fighting yourself? How can you ever actually win against a ghost?  Regardless, I’m not going to fight for anything anymore.  Here’s why:

You don’t need to fight for things that belong.

Don’t look back.  You're not going that way.  It’s that simple. The answers are always ahead. Remember that. And I promise…you will win the race every time.

Thanks for listening.

xo

Sometimes

I sit in the quiet. And it's needed and necessary and I am reminded that as much I feel that I have lost, I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I've lost no time. Only gained lessons. I have just needed more schooling than most.

That is all.

Thanks for listening.

Butterflies

A couple of years ago, out of nowhere, the person that I had spent years of my life with suddenly vanished.  It was only days before Thanksgiving that he fell into some emotional paralysis and my world as I knew it seemed to crumble.  There would be years following of back and forths, ups and downs, but ultimately, we would never be able to recover.

Anyway, for that weekend of Thanksgiving I walked around in a state of complete wreckage.  I bashed into walls, literally, fell through floors, drank myself into a broken frenzy, cried, collapsed.  You name it.  However, throughout all of this time, someone was always with me.  My ladies stood guard, watching over.  Letting me grieve and keeping me safe.  At the end of that weekend I was standing in my kitchen.  Nic, on duty, was sitting on a stool, keeping watch.  I remember turning around and looking at her and saying, "I think you can go now.  I am ready to rest."  With trepidation she looked at me, "Are you sure?  I don't need to be anywhere, I can stay."  "I'm sure," I said.  And with that,  I allowed myself the time to close my eyes and stop.  I had mourned enough.  I had done enough damage to myself.  Which is the funny bit.  Destroying myself as penance for someone else breaking my heart.  I think I did that for years. 

I'd like to believe I don't do that as much anymore.  Though I sometimes think that time in my life won't ever pass.  Though it comes in haunting waves in the middle of a moment, it is now a more silent knock.  I am more gentle with myself.  Although 'he' is long since gone, the memory if 'it' still remains.  The 'it' I pray each day releases itself further and further from me so that something beautiful can find its way in.

Another Thanksgiving has passed.  I didn't bang into any walls.  I didn't fall through any floors.  Nobody had to stand watch.  I may in some ways have stood watch over others.  I laughed.  Maybe I shed a few tears but mostly I gave thanks, found gratitude and only let him creep into my thoughts when it was safe for him to do so.  I'd like to believe that year by year and within all of this time and space, I'm finally figuring it out.  I'd like to believe in butterflies again. 

That's all.  Thanks for listening.

Nuff said

Padded Cells

Today I had one of those vibrating moments where everything sort of whizzed around me and I felt all sorts of woozy and out of body.  It happens sometimes.  I won’t go into the details of the moment or what spurred it but it happened nonetheless.

In that moment, I sort of broke my own heart because I realized that as far as I’ve come, I haven’t really come that far - in that one tiny moment, I realized I was still holding on to something that I would be served greatly by if I could release it.

Memories are a dichotomy.  As much as they tell your story they can at times break you.  It’s the elation of remembrance and the burden of it all the same.  The other day I was laughing and then I walked by a painting that he had bought me and my stomach instantly went into that wretched twisty knot place and that was that.  And unfortunately for me – the memories are everywhere.  My home, my thoughts, my ocean.  Although I have woven them into the fabric of myself I find no comfort in accepting them.

I presume I see it all as this invisible blanket that covers me.  Sometimes it’s incredibly heavy – sometimes its light but it’s there, constantly, - weighing.  

I had written a lot about not knowing shit in your 20’s.  To be honest, I’m not quite sure I know shit in my 30’s either.  I seem to be running to stand still and spinning in circles all the same.  My life, as glorious as it is…and it is…is nowhere or nothing of what I thought it would be.  And, what scares me the most – is that I have no idea what it should be.  Although I appreciate the existential idealism that ‘you are where you are supposed to be’ I don’t know if I buy it anymore because ‘here’ kinda hurts and I’ve been ‘here’ for quite some time.  But it’s subtle and it ebbs and flows.  It doesn’t rob me of happiness, it just.....- weighs.

Awhile back I had sort of made a pact with myself to not share so much.  Not write so much.  Not be so open.  I’m not really sure why but I just felt compelled to keep things close and protected.  But perhaps by doing that I’ve kept too much in and it’s all become cluttered and chaotic.  I don’t know.  And likely that’s it…what this place is.  Not knowing.  Today I’m standing in the middle of the fucking ‘not knowing’ room and darlin’ – there aren’t any doors.

Basta.

Feeling lost in translation

He covets my mind a thousand times daily.  Cloudy.  Exhausted.  I am not sure if I will ever be able to unravel myself from him.  His energy surrounds all that I do.

It sucks.

You Don't Know Shit in Your Twenties: Act - Don't - React

I'm pretty sure I spent the majority of my twenties being reactionary.  Every emotion, every thought.  It became an acquired discipline as I got older to just fucking breathe.  Let things go.

In my twenties, everything was so monumentous.  It was so defining.  I had no idea, the older that I got, things would just 'be what they are'.  They would ebb.  They would flow.  They would change and evolve and except for myself and my reactions to it all, there wasn't a lot that I had control over.  That evolution creates a sort of serenity.  A knowing.  A peace.

There are no answers.  I spent so many years of my life plaguing myself seeking reason.  Sometimes there is none.  And as you progress in life you begin to realize that resistance to the belief that you are exactly where you are supposed to be regardless of the discomfort, is futile.

So you succumb.  You succumb to realizing that not everyone or everything will ever be as good as you want it or them to be.  You succumb to realizing that sometimes, there are 0 answsers, only acceptance.  You succumb to accepting that love doesn't come in the form of a neat little package and most certainly, serenity doesn't come in disregarding the voice within. And you succumb to the fact that all of that, in it's annoying, uncontrollable everything, is all good. 

And so you learn to act.  Not react.  You learn to be, not be provoked.  You learn to judge little and accept more.  You learn to become situationally aware because you realize that it isn't all about you and your moments....it's about much more.  It's about two wrongs not making a right and a peaceful nights sleep knowing you did good that day far out trumping demon's the day after.  It's about just doing the next right thing for you and those around you - because well, that's what we're here for. 

And so you learn to age with grace instead of combat.  Because it makes more sense that way.  And as much as I spent so many years arguing against my future - I feel ok now....because I finally began to listen to it.  Find quiet.  Find gratitude.  Act.  Not react. I didn't know that for decades.  I do now.  It was worth the wait.

That's all.

Thanks for listening.

You Don't Know Shit In Your 20's - Sex

Ok, we might as well cover the good stuff first.

It's simple. Whatever good sex you think you had in your 20's won't remotely compare to the sex you have in your 30's and beyond. I could end the topic there as anyone over 30 understands my point but to enlighten the younger generation, I'll share some insight.

It's a well known fact, women reach their sexual prime in their 30's. I presume there are a million hormonal reasons however I tend to vibe more for the cognitive. Mentally, we are just in a better place. We get our bodies, we've overcome a magnitude of neurosis and we're good with what we want, how we want it and we have no problem communicating it. I assume this goes for most men as well.

In your 20's there seems to be more of a groveling gratitude and haste to sex. In your 30's...not so much. It can become a bit more of an art form as you've been honing some skills and well, let's be honest, you've now had years of practice (sorry Mom). Many men have told me over the years that women can't have 'casual sex' as we're 'emotional creatures'. My retort is simply the stare of complete boredom as I realize they haven't a clue.

Women can have casual sex - most especially as they age. It's never really been my thing as I'm more of a serial monogamist but there have been a few mishaps here and there - a girl has needs too. But here's the thing, as we age, we become well aware that emotional fulfillment doesn't exist in a quick romp and we are quite in tune with the fact that a sexual connection doesn't equate to a life partner so we are adept at taking those moments for what they are - a moment and not a reason to veer off the path of soul mate hunting. We lose the drama and fantasy of our youth.  It's refreshing. 

I remember in my 20's thinking...Ohmagodthisisthebestsexeverrrrr...meh, not so much. Those who carried the title then have now fallen quickly of the pedestal of lovers of yore because as I've gotten older, the people that I have chosen to be with well, are older, and they just know what they are doing. And, they have done it well.

Sure, do I miss my ripped 20-something year old bod flashing in the moonlight - absolutely.  However I'll take wisdom of my body and mind and some softer curves and corners any day.  My lines are my history, and my history is sexy. 

So there, you have it.  Sex only gets better after 30.  Something for the wee ones to look forward to. 

You Don't Know Shit In Your 20's - Prologue

Last summer Becky and I were sitting on the beach. We were talking about our lives, 'aging' as it were and what not. What we concluded was that for all we had believed, we actually didn't know shit in our 20's and it was only now, in our mid-thirties that we were coming into our own. As we sat there and laughed we talked about how perfect a book would be summarizing all that we had believed to know, to only evolve later into more definitive truth. The good, the bad, the ugly. So, this is the beginning of an attempt to document conversations and revelations within myself and amongst friends.

Now, let me qualify something. There are loads of 20-something year old's who know a great deal. Many are old enlightened souls and know more than most. This is a generalized statement about myself, my friends and not an opinion of the entire 'Generation Y, Echo Boomers, Millenials' or whatever the hell they are called now. So take it all with a grain of salt. When I write, I write about my personal knowledge and experience. I won't pretend to determine the aptitude of an entire generation.

So, this is the beginning...The opening of the door to let the free flow of thought commence. I presume some topics I will have a lot to say, others, well it might be one line of insight. Someone has to document this stuff - might as well be me.

More to follow....thanks for listening.

Time

I told myself that I would write tonight. Regardless of the outcome. So, here goes.

It was a long winter. An atypical winter as I made the choice to spend more time within as opposed to without. I made a choice for quiet. There were thoughts and things that needed to find their way and the only way was silence. So, for awhile, I indulged. It wasn’t easy.

Emotions suck. They can be fickle. They in the darkest of nights can show you most boldly yourself and it isn’t always the easiest path. Aka there aren’t always rainbows and butterflies. It’s just you. And the night. And your mind.
I think I learned a few things…I thought I might share.

1. There is patience in all things. Most importantly processes that you don’t have control of.
2. Being there for others will sometimes heal far more in you than being there for yourself.
3. Faith. Have faith. Believe that we are always exactly where we are supposed to be.
4. Sometimes, it’s ok to creep back into your past, sleep in the arms of a lover that makes you feel safe so that at least for a few hours you can have rest.
5. Believe in the people that you have surrounded yourself with - that they will get you through what you seemingly can’t.
6. Let go in love.
7. Breathe.
8. Be kind in the most random of moments with the most random of people….you never know the joy it might bring and you never know what soul might be in the body of a stranger.
9. Forgive those that don’t understand you.
10. Let go of your past. It is just that. Your past. Looking backwards is wasteful. Look only ahead. Take what you have learned…the rest…just stops along the road.

I don’t know. I think it is all much more simple than I’ve made it. For me, it’s been about letting go of that which I can’t control. To learn to just sort of ebb and flow throughout things. Be. To stop fighting time. It’s there. It passes.

I can’t control it. It shows in my smile, in my belly. Life. Let go of the incessant need to be something that I can no longer be.
I’m trying to find beauty in age and wisdom and not the flaws within that. Lines are memories, not affliction. Enough said.
Thanks for listening.

"I just need to release it. I need to tell myself that it’s ok to let it go now. Maybe if I let it go I can let go of the disappointment I create before anyone can even get close to me which I use as my excuse to retreat behind the security of impenetrable walls. Maybe if I let it go, forgive you, myself and release that hope I can find the peace that has escaped me for what now feels like a lifetime.

If I was to be honest, I can admit that by holding on to it…I was still holding on to you. If I had let it leave me it would’ve meant that you were leaving me and it was all that I had left so I carried it with me everywhere. I think you have done the same as well. I don’t think I can do that anymore. I don’t think you should do it anymore either.

You and I had all of these moments and chances. We failed miserably at making them into something great. I remember one time, sitting on my back steps at Columbus Ave and you called me. You talked to me about our foundation…the house analogy. That our foundation was broken but that we could fill in the cracks and build a stronger house. We never built that house.

This process of grieving is difficult. I progress and then regress. I find myself hating, loving, and missing in so many moments. I let stuff in. I let stuff out. Last night I broke through another barrier within myself. I was forced to recognize that although outwardly I’ve been existing in what most would see as a progressive life, internally, I’ve never left where I was 5 years ago. In some ways, perhaps. In most however, I’ve still been waiting for you to turn around in that hotel room and choose me. I’ve been staring at empty doorways waiting for you to return ever since."

What If...

I’ve sort of had this odd energy lately. These “what if’s” buzzing quietly around my head. I’m not really a “what if” type of gal so I find it all unsettling. I’ve always believed that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, I don’t question much.

I keep worrying about what if I missed a window? What if there was a moment that was supposed to bring me somewhere else and I didn’t see it? What if I walked right by it? What if I let it go without knowing what it meant? What if that window was my chance at something more and I was too tired, ignorant or afraid and now that chance has disappeared. What if, there is never anything more again except wondering what if I had done things differently? What if, in fact, this is actually not where I am supposed to be?

How can I possibly challenge what innately has been my mantra for the majority of my life. And more so, why - because what I have, where I am - should be enough?

I presume it’s a stage of something…some strange reckoning of the soul which I will ultimately transcend out of with some higher spiritual enlightenment but for right now, it looms everywhere around me. In everything I see and touch. What...if…

Can't

Seem to write these days. Thoughts float. They come in. They go out. Nothing ties together to make any sense. I go in. I go out.

It was 5 degrees driving home tonight. That's all I got.

Sometimes, I presume it's ok to be a blank canvas. Perhaps my spirit sits in waiting for the next bit of amazing to arrive.

Thanks for listening.

Sitting in the kitchen. Windows open. Blizzard. Snow drifts wafting through the screen and falling on my face. The cold feels good.

Today I started crying. I didn't stop. For hours. I haven't cried in quite some time. Perhaps it is because I rallied through two holidays. Quite well I might add. I have been pushing. Persevering. Being. Accepting. And then I broke a bit today. It's not a woe is me pity thing. It happens. We as humans have emotions. They need to come out. They came out.

I'm not sure what I was crying for. Perhaps the memory. Perhaps that at 36 I feel so far away from the things I believe truly matter. Perhaps because it's a blizzard and though I could be surrounded right now I chose to be here, hiding in my kitchen with the windows open, blowing cold air on my face, thinking. Writing. Perhaps it's because I can't change time and space and decisions long since past. Perhaps it's because I'm just a girl sometimes, who likes to be alone, listen to sad songs and think about that which I can't control.

I want to save the world. Myself included. I want everyone to be happy, filled with love - with peace. I want smiles and unicorns and rainbows. I want the intangible.

And so I sit. I my kitchen. With my wine and my smokes, staring into a storm and wondering how it is that I will shovel myself out. Literally, and figuratively.

I have been waiting for a long time to know the answer. There is so much beauty cept that one little widget that won't seem to sort itself. I wish it would. I wish I would.

And so this is Christmas...

And what have you done? Another year over...a new one's just begun.

My wish for the universe is quite simple....to get to a place in which we embrace life's shit storms, coast through them and treasure the beautiful bits - because amongst the chaos there are still many.

It's quite simple really....

Happy Christmas.

Gimme gimme

I’ve been trying lately to dissect the concept of wanting what we can’t have.  I do believe for many years I subscribed greatly to that.  The thrill of the chase and all.  And then, it stopped one day because I really wanted what I couldn’t have and not because I couldn’t have it, but because I loved it.  I loved him.  And well, then the game wasn’t so fun anymore.  It hurt.  So, I stopped playing.

I believe it’s difficult to appreciate the things, the people in our lives in a way that sort of transcends all of the everyday bullshit.  We are so easily distracted by pretty things and take for granted the simplicity of love.  The real kind of love when someone stays by your side has your back – even when we catch ourselves banging against walls.  The concept of ‘leaving’ is no longer a notion.  There is no greener grass.  There are certainly other ‘things’ but if you can’t find a way to love all that is around you, regardless of the variations and formations it all may take, well, then you’ll just keep searching under rocks and behind shadows forever.  Because eventually, you will come to find, that what you can’t have has nothing to do with anyone else.  It has to do with you.  And if it’s not in your life, then it’s not supposed to be.

I’m not sure why my mind is spinning in circles about this lately.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve broken through something and I no longer feel held or compelled to search anywhere outside of my reality for things far ‘greater’.  The universe gives you gifts.  These gifts come in the form of people.  In the form of moments - even shitty ones.  If you don’t embrace them, you will lose them.  We miss windows all the time because we are too busy looking outside of them, backwards and beyond them as opposed to at them.  We have these chances, and when we become too consumed with what they mean, what they will be, what they will bring us as opposed to looking very simply at what they are - we skew their very purpose.

There is a reason to simplify.  There is a reason to believe that your life is of your making and creation.  There is a reason to love the gifts you’ve been living.  There is a reason to stop fucking bitching and wanting something more.  There is a reason to stop being afraid that this life is exactly all you’ll ever get and be.  Because when you stand in the cold air and you watch your steamy breath and your eyes blink from sunlight….that is enough.  That is all there is.  There is nothing more to want or to have.  There is no ellipsis. 

Anyway, I guess it’s about gratitude and wanting what you have.  Not what you don’t. 

Thanks for listening.

30,000

Feet in the air.  Tired.  Want a shower.  Want my bed.  Want a hug.  Annoyed by people reading my computer screen and not minding their P's & Q's (yah, dude next to me that means you...). Feeling like my ass is flat as a pancake from sitting on it in endless days of meetings, planes, cars...more planes...Mildly crabby and just want to get home to my big empty house with an overflowing mailbox to greet me.


I want to be laying on the ground, breathing cold fresh air with this as my view....giggling....Sigh.

Thanks for listening to my whiny rant. 

Indeed

Tu Me Manques

That is all.

Pre-sunrise rambles....

Can't sleep. Dry heat. Coarse air. Dreams requiring more analysis than one mind can offer. So I stare into the light of a computer screen.

In my dream (one part of the series of many bits), I am standing at the edge of water. I just keep repeating, "It's too deep to cross right now, the tide is too high. I can go around it, or wait. I think I should wait." If I was to get all analytical on myself, I think it's about slowing down...taking more time. Pacing this process. I've had such a surge of adrenaline like excitement to dive back into my life, I negated that I still have much work to do on the self. This weekend went by with a fuzzy blur of running this way and that - which was deliriously wonderful in it's own right, however I'm easily distracted. I promised myself not to distract myself from myself this time. Do it right once and for all.

I have today. I want today to be for me. A long walk on the beach, a lazy breakfast, some OCD-ing of my house, making soup, reading a book, drinking tea...the things that bring me peace and slow me down.

Baby steps Tarah, baby steps. It's wonderful to feel a sense of energy and freedom, but that doesn't negate the strong need to be gentle with myself. I don't want to jump too far ahead - so much so that I miss a step and falter.

Make sense?

Thanks for listening. I'm going to go back to sleep now. Shhhhh.....

It's amazing....

I can't think of a song that better exemplifies my current state of being. When you climb out of the fog of self, there is a freedom...a rebirth. It is in fact amazing. The way you feel all giddy and childlike - as if the world is new and quite possibly anything you want can in fact be yours. It's the Phoenix, climbing from the ashes. It fucking rocks.

Lyrical Imbibement

Music has always affected me. Since I was a little girl I’ve always been able to remember every word to every song hearing lyrics at times only once. Words in general have an incredibly strong impact on me so to hear words with lyrical accompaniment….fuggetaboutit.

The difficulty is however, that without most people knowing, I bind memories to songs and so I can never quite let go of things. In the most random of moments, a memory from lifetimes ago can surround me so quickly just by simply hearing one note. I suppose I am amongst many who experience this.

Right now, I am on a plane. A song is playing and mentally I am swept back to driving with the top down in Montauk, NY, sun shining on my face, holding his hand believing that quite possibly we had found our way after all of these years to a place that made sense. That moment would pass and I would eventually let go and walk away recognizing that ‘that’ place never truly existed for us, but in this moment, I am back there, smelling salty air, loving the boy that I had loved since I was 29 years old. Sigh.

I guess the perk is now that I don’t cry when I hear this song or shudder and mentally smash my iPod to bits, I wistfully stare and find gratitude that I have found freedom in my forgiveness. I find gratitude in realizing that although he remains a subtle knock on the door of my conscious I now move and transition through days without anything more than a fleeting thought of him. I know it is the same for him. He’s breathing a bit easier now and although he sits in darkness some nights staring across bays wondering where I went, he’s better. We’re both better.

There is freedom in forgiveness. I am grateful that I forgive myself and him for failing miserably at loving one another. Someone said to me once that the worst person for you to love is a soul mate because they are supposed to teach you something and then move on. If you hold them to you, it will always be a reflection far too great to bare. I am not sure why it is that for the better part of a decade we chose to bind ourselves to one another, too tortured to think of life without each other as opposed to learning what we needed to and then moving on – letting go in love. I guess it hurts to lose something you love even if it was never meant to be yours. But in hurt there is healing and in healing there is life….I have so very much missed my life. It’s a lonely existence when you misplace all of your energy into someone else and not yourself. The emptiness I now have in the release of it reminds me that ‘I’ exist again - if that makes sense. I guess for many years now, I have missed ‘me’. It’s at times been a treacherous road back to the self, but I’m grateful for it regardless.

I’m rambling. The song is still playing. If it’s alright with the universe I think I will remember love for just a few minutes more and send energy across these 3,000 miles so that he too will have some light within his darkness tonight.

Thanks for listening.

Stage 5 - Acceptance

I prefer this to Stage 4. Stage 4 was rough. This stage...a bit more pallitable. I accept.

Yes, I much prefer Stage 5.