For My Dad this Veteran's Day

If I could be with you today, it would be on a bench in a space specifically set aside, tended to and nurtured as a memorial. There would be a flag. There would be enough wind so that as we sat silently, we could hear its fabric song flapping softly.

I would hold your hand in both of mine, cradled in my lap. I would wonder where your thoughts were but wouldn’t burden you with my need to know. I would sit with you silently wondering how difficult your time serving our country was and how you managed to survive. I would be glad to hold you in that moment and be satisfied with the possibility of even a split second of peace in your soul that might come from that connection.

I wouldn’t be sure if my words should be that of thanks or apology so I would sit silently. I would wait for a cue or a sign or a sigh that might tell me which direction to go. I would hope to be a reprieve. To be a safe place. To be a confidante. To be brave enough to hear what you would finally share, knowing that I would gladly assume some of your burden if there was any possible way. I would hope that there was some sense to be made of your sacrifices.

I would send all of that to you through such a simple touch…and in that moment, everything would be okay.

It wouldn’t be a celebration, but it would be a beginning. I most mourn the loss of those beginnings.

Just Breathe...

I occasionally fall into a trap. The comparison trap. I'm on track toward a goal...any goal...and someone I'm connected to is on the same track. Maybe steps beyond me or steps behind. Maybe we vacillate. At times I feel like a coach and other times I feel like a slacker. Ouch. Sometimes I feel like a failure and the self recrimination becomes a demon that haunts my every decision. Comparison is so counterproductive. Even when I'm in the steps beyond camp, I struggle with feelings of superiority...knowing on a gut level that "sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind...the race is long, and in the end it's only with yourself" (Mary Schmich, Chicago Tribune, 1997) and that superiority merely causes breaks in connection which is the exact opposite of how I want to live this life.

So I regroup. Right now, in one goal, I am behind where I wish I was. I am beyond where I thought I would be. In comparison to those on my same journey, I struggle with judging their methods and goals. Judging...along with superiority become comparison's evil henchmen.

Here's where I am today. I woke up and it was foggy. ~sigh~ I love fog. I put on appropriate clothing and walked a couple of miles in the fog. Soaking it in, being fully present and insulated. Being held gently by one of the earth's amazing water tricks. I met my own methods and goals in that naturally meditative space. My goals don't tend to have numbers or letters or any measurable outcome. My goals are 100% totally and completely about feeling.

Succulent, Awed, Magical, Magnetic, Deeply Connected. Every day in every way.

Fitness? Succulent in my clothes, deeply connected to my body...not a body I happen to have but one I inhabit in a deeply connected feeling way. That requires hydration, restful sleep, meditation, pure nourishment and movement...pushing, pulling, lifting, running, dancing, skipping, walking. It requires I push my body in ways that allow me to feel it not only as I'm doing it but days after. I'm not about a number on a scale, a number on a tag or inches on a tape. I'm about being in this body passionately.

My career? Awed by my fellow humans. Magical to those who come to me for perspective and healing. Magnetic to those who crave my natural gifts. Deeply connected to a commitment to my fellow beings in all of their forms.

My world? Awed. Aware of my magical deep connection to all of our planet and mother nature's natural gifts.

My people? All of it. Succulent, I want to nourish them. Awed...I want to be soulfully nourished BY them. Magical...I want to practice being present in ways that transcend the obvious reality. Magnetic...I want to only be in the presence of those with whom the attraction is mutual and learn to let the others find their own other pole. Deeply connected...I want to wind my roots around and share those vital nutrients with others, becoming stronger naturally through this process...no more superficiality or avoidance.

My goals are mine. They are not superior or inferior to any other person's. There is no universal yardstick and I am truly never ahead or behind any other person. The race I am in with myself is not only long, it is infinite. The only possible measurement is how committed I remained on any given day to staying true to those feelings.

Today has infinite possibilities and I am grateful to the fog for the space to remember these things.

Sweet relief

Things changed in my world in February. A change I could roll with, a change that loyalty required I grin and bear. A change that would necessitate the development of the mantra "help for so many, you can do this." I have lived it fully...with all of the challenges and triumphs that were part of the journey.

I finally understand people who leave their 9-5 six figure a year job to work at Starbucks.

The things I have learned in the past few months are this:

First: just because you're good or great at something does not mean that you should do it and do it and do it...especially exclusively. Imagine this concept in regard to a muscle. If you knew that your biceps were your best muscle and you directed all of your attention to them, you would end up with huge beautifully defined biceps on a body that doesn't match. Other muscles would wither and atrophy. Some would compensate but compensating is so far from the equal attention they deserve and, quite frankly, require to create a healthy and balanced human being.

Second: if your integrity does not line up with how you're being asked to do something, the cost is too high. You pay for this in pieces of your self-worth. On a soul level, when this happens, destructive compensation measures kick in. Your you-ness erodes and you hardly recognize the person behind the behaviors, habits, thoughts and fears.

Third: you are the only one responsible for understanding and supporting all of this. I'm a big fan of "ask for what you need" but I also follow that with "be okay with no as an answer" and when that answer is no, allow yourself to respond authentically. Knowing how, when and where to seek a beginning of an end is crucial. Doing so with grace is a must...and a gift.

So...change is rolling in like a fog or a marine layer...but when it lifts or dissipates, everything will be in sharp relief again. Relief AND relief. ~sigh~

Succulent? Magical? Magnetic? Awed? Deeply connected? Oh, yes.

Mother's Day, The first day of the rest of our relationship.

It's Mother's Day. I feel vaguely ambivalent...and it is devastating me. I know at some point, I will see my babies and we will spend 5 minutes or 5 hours together and it will be all that I could wish for. That part of Mother's Day is easy.

It's the having a mother part that is hard for me. My whole life, it's been a holiday whose approach I dread. The cards? They are all about "always there for me" and "helped me be the strong woman I am" etc, etc, etc. It's not that I disagree with any of those sentiments, per se. My mother was always there for me. She did help me become the strong woman I am. I do love her immensely. But there is still a bitter sting attached to the hows. There is a shit ton of garbage from the past that isn't decomposing on it's own. And it should have by now, if it was going to..with all of the time and pretending it doesn't exist that we have perfected into an art.

I'm 42. I'm lucky to have a mother. She's been through some health crises that scared us both and I can't even begin to imagine a world without her. I absolutely love her. I would do anything for her. I also know that there isn't a single thing she can do about the past...and she couldn't apologize in a way that would be more meaningful, heartfelt and genuine than the thousands of times she has before.

It confuses me so grieviously that I can be grateful and loving toward her and still hurt so tremendously over the past. It's affecting our relationship...and there is sadly not a damn thing she can do about it. The burden is on me. I'm the one who has to do something. I'm the one who has to do the deep soul work to release this shit. It's just so scary...so necessary, so beyond its time and did I mention so fucking scary? It's almost as if still being resentful keeps her in line...keeps her from becoming complacent and possibly repeating the past because she got off easy. Easy. Ha. It can't be easy by any stretch of the imagination to be on the other side of this relationship.

Today, my momma is loving and patient. She's funny, generous, thoughtful and kind...but she's sad a lot and I don't know how to help her with her sadness when I carry this terrible burden of resentment squarely between us. That makes her sadder.

Her Mother's Day gift this year is going to be that I'm done pretending. I'm done waiting for that magical moment when the piles of hurt from the past disappear on their own. My gift to my mother, to myself, to my kids and to all of those around me who see how I carry and defend my resentments is that I'm going to do something about it.

Starting today...despite how scary it is, I start where I can...peeking at it as much as possible. It starts with me and it starts today. It starts with an "I'm sorry" for waiting so long and that I'm so unbelievably grateful that the opportunity still exists.

Apocylapse. Now.

She's at it again...this bodacious badass with the questions that rock and roll and lullaby and break everything wide Wide WIDE open.

"How do you feel about destroying what must be destroyed in your life? You know — right this very minute — what’s not working in your life. You don’t have to think about it for too long. The question is: How do you feel about destroying what must be destroyed in your life? "

Not a second had to pass for me to know from a place way deep inside. The knowing was like fireworks in a night sky complete with that burning celebratory smell that speaks of independence, confidence and connection to the universal yes.

I know what's not working, what's holding me still and holding me back. What I hold onto consciously because I want to be held here, where it's safe and easy...and what I allow to hold me because letting go means certain dreams fade, wither and die...even, no...especially those dreams whose dying is long overdue.

The question divides into two for me right here. It turns into How do I feel about destroying what must be destroyed in my life and Am I willing to experience that feeling by taking action?

Imagining, I feel frightened and empowered simultaneously...full of jittery, excited energy that tells me that I'm doing something GREAT that will leave me changed in ways that I've been hungering for. It feels like letting go of a balloon holding me up and an anchor holding me down...like the time to fly, float or sink in the direction of my own choosing has come to pass. It feels terrifyingly liberating. It feels like melancholy-tinged badassery as certain hopes, dreams and beliefs are tied to that balloon and other fears, obligations and dogmas to that anchor.

Taking action will mean I will encounter misunderstanding, assumptions, blame and shame. I will be misunderstood and I will hurt someone's feelings without a doubt. I will change. Things will change. Relationships will change. Some people will withdraw their love, others will come closer. I will grieve the loss of people and the possible future I thought was a foregone conclusion. I will set free the part of me that stayed small to hold on when holding on was no longer serving me or you or that or them.

What's amazing is that just the question...entertaining the possible answers starts something wonder~full.

I'm not the same person I was before I started this post.

Destruction doesn't have to be brilliant and devastating. It can be a quiet destruction that happens in a heart when the heart is ready. It can be a letting go that is not a dramatic, in-your-face firey explosion of burning journals, quitting a job, breaking up with a lover or telling off of someone who has had it coming for way too long. It can be a balloon that quietly floats away until it can no longer be seen or an anchor that stays in the darkness of the depths with its broken chain coiled around itself.

The answers is: Yes, I am ready and chances are it's already happening.

Love Letter to the Lost

There's something about forgiveness that is blissful. It's that expanding of your heart, character, integrity and capacity for love that is so heady and intoxicating.

Forgiveness has been hovering, shaking, aimed at my heart like the point of an arrow on a bow that's stretched to capacity. It's felt ominous and inescapable lately. I've tried to stave it off with righteousness and outrage and anger...unsuccessfully.

If I would have known it would feel like this, I would have surrendered much earlier.

When I forgave YOU, you lost every iota of power you have or ever had over me. That was intoxicating.

But...

When I forgave ME, I gained every ounce of power in all the galaxies combined. That is fortifying and liberating.

My heart is peace~full and my past mistakes no longer define me...those stories are about some other person in some other time, surviving as best as she could. I've nurtured that girl and loved her into evolving so far past what she was and the mistakes that were hers to make.

I highly recommend it. Nurture. Love. Forgive. Evolve. Rinse. Repeat.

Namaste.

That One Time I Got Peed On...

"Turn your face, young lady" he said with an authoritative and extremely serious demeanor, reaching for the drawstring on his swim trunks. Just fifteen minutes earlier I had been prancing on the beach where the water met the sand. My bikini was new...black, with ruffles...it was a gift from my mother at my sixteenth birthday party just days prior. Now I was looking up from my seated position on the sand at a rounded belly and dark nippled chest covered by a carpet of salt and pepper hair. So. Much. Hair...all the way to that drawstring. My mind couldn't even conceive what was beyond that, but by all evidence, I was about to find out.

Rewind fifteen minutes and my prancing had taken me past the water line to where the waves began to break. There was a group of us prancers...splashing and laughing and eventually bobbing in the Gulf of Mexico. I was on my back, arms outstretched, feeling the sun on my skin and the rhythm of the waves rocking me gently. I had drifted a bit away from my friends when the pain of a thousand needles simultaneously being shoved under my skin took over my leg. I screamed with every bit of air in my lungs, sure that one of the sharks rumored to be in the waters just ate my right leg from mid calf down. I couldn't do anything but scream, not even turn my face to find my friends. I went under, frozen in my floating pose with no air left in my lungs. I felt myself being dragged under the water and thought, "I didn't even eat lunch yet and I'm going to be lunch," when I realized I was being pulled TOWARD the beach, not into the depths to be devoured.

My arms started working and a strong male voice demanded that I stop my thrashing as I felt the thousand needles on my skin again. Terrified of what I would or wouldn't see, I forced myself to stop moving except to look at my leg. My foot was there and it all looked normal, except for the sand the forceful man had heaped on my ankle. He apologized and quickly scrubbed the sand into my skin. I screamed again, in total flaming agony. Then he ordered me to turn my face and I felt a stinging warmth on the same skin. I could smell urine and in my agonized, near-delirious state, I thought I had lost control of my bladder. I was embarrassed. I was more embarrassed when I realized what had really just happened.

He wrapped my leg in a towel and put me in the back seat of my friend's car with strict orders to go straight to the Emergency Room. We tried. I cried. The drive should have been twenty minutes but the drawbridge that was always such a welcome excuse for why we missed curfew was karmically in operation at the time. An hour and five minutes later, we arrived at the ER. I was welted and the scars remained well past the summer, but the ER couldn't do any more for me than the quick thinking and reacting hairy Samaritan on the beach had.

I don't know what's luckier, that it was my only encounter with a Portuguese Man O'War or the only time a stranger peed on me.

Imagine & Allow

I've most recently labelled my new calendar years Carpe Diem & Moxie in 2010 then Possibility & Brilliance in 2011.

This year is Imagine & Allow.

It's not on purpose...but I can see the evolution of my soul in this progression. First it was: give it all you've got, live out loud, be gutsy and grab ahold. Next it was: expand your vision to see what might be there waiting to dazzle and captivate. Now it is: use less vision and more visualizing, create fertile ground and and around this little sphere so those possibilities have the time and space and nourishment to flourish, bloom and turn into amazing sweetness.

It's how it should be.

Remembrance Day

***This post was written last year, saved as a draft and forgotten. Two days ago, the scene was eerily repeated almost to the smallest detail. Same checker, elderly man ahead of me in line with is cap identifying him as a Korean war veteran. The difference in the situation this year is that last year's encounter had prepared me to be grateful and expressive. I stood there a person changed by a year of living, learning and listening. ***


Last night, two hours and thirty minutes into overtime at the end of one of my most emotionally draining workdays in a long time, I had one work-related stop to make before I could settle into my evening at home.

I walked into the most inconveniently located market in existence with nothing but thoughts of fuzzy socks,pajamas, my couch, hot tea and the next episode of Life Unexpected that were all waiting at the end of this errand. I approached the check stand with only one person in front of me, a nondescript man of advanced years. I found myself twisting the tie on my dress...a sure sign that I'm impatient and something is about to REALLY get on my nerves.

The checker was Middle Eastern man with a heavy accent that made his tongue trip and tangle over his words. The customer he was speaking to was hard of hearing. They were having trouble communicating and the customer was reaching the end of his patience...worse than me and my twisting. The checker slowed down, but he slowed his actions as well as his words and that did not sit well with the impatience brewing in his line. Aeons later, he was finally making change and handed it to the man in front of me in line. When he placed the last coin in the older man's hand, he used both of his hands to clasp the man's hand in his. He nodded his head toward the older man's hat and said, very very slowly and obviously as clearly as he possibly could, "I will probably not see you tomorrow so I would like to say thank you today for everything you have done to ensure this is a country of freedom and promise and hope." He was smiling and glossy-eyed and held the man's hand for just a beat longer than he spoke.

I couldn't help my curiosity and am pretty ashamed that I didn't have a clue why he was talking about "tomorrow." When the other customer turned to me and I saw his VFW hat with pins and patches I recognized but don't understand, I was doubly ashamed. The checker obviously DID understand...and dismantled every misconception I had up until that moment one feeling, one realization, one bit of awe at a time. He might be Middle Eastern and trip over our language, but he was very obviously twice the American I could ever hope to be.

I celebrate in my heart today every altruistic act of those serving our military, today and yesterday...to protect and ensure the right to freedom, promise and hope for a country full of people who might or might not understand or appreciate...might even protest what they are doing. These men and women are of the utmost integrity...doing what they believe is right despite the actions or beliefs of others...despite the ignorance of a tired, impatient, oblivious girl in a small town at an inconveniently located market needing to be reminded of their sacrifice by a Middle Eastern man who knew better than to take it for granted.

I Believe in Santa

I have a magic wand. One that really works.

Don't be jealous. You have it too...you just have to download the software update and be patient during the buffering process.

My friends will tell you about my magic wand, but the words they will say are "lucky" or "in the right place at the right time" or "things just go her way" or my favorite "coincidences follow her."

That's one lovely viewpoint. Kinda sounds like magic.

The words I say are "mad manifesting skills" or "bitchen alignment with the Universe."

My magic wand is my mind and imagination. I've had it from birth and sometime way back in my childhood, I stopped believing in it's powerful ability to imagine my inner world into existence. I'd hazard a guess that it was around the same time I stopped expecting Santa to show up. Oddly enough, when I stopped expecting him was exactly when his visits ceased. Not so oddly, a couple of years ago when I started expecting him again, his visits resumed.

I could stop there and my work here would be done.

But that would leave you wondering about the hows. I am by no means an expert on the hows. I don't have an impressive library of woo-woo books. I haven't been to a single seminar or retreat to learn techniques. I don't have a guru. I do have hours of podcasts saved to my iTunes library but I've never listened to them. My meditation is sporadic and juvenile and often my mind strays to shiny things or broken things or my dog or my to do list or what was that noise?

So, how is it that I have mad manifesting skills and a bitchen alignment with the Universe?

Belief. That's how. Well, that's step one of three. It's the step where I learned patience. It's the step where I metaphorically looked at the hourglass and said "Yay, BUFFERING!" instead of clicking to the next video. It's the place where I cultivated gratitude for the process and remained completely present in that current amazing moment with all of its waning frustration and potential for greatness. It's also the place where I grew to believe that the entire Universe and Cosmos are constantly conspiring in my favor for the juiciest version of my dreams to come true. This step takes time and is unfortunately where the potential to give up is most ripe. I did. A hundred times over. Something kept bringing me back...some tiny memory from childhood that kept saying "believe" followed by "it took Santa 364 days to come back every year!" I figured that like a child, I could believe in something for 364 days. 364 days were going to pass no matter what and it was my choice on how to spend them...but I knew I would need help. Daily help. Something that would have the capacity to remind me of my goal to stay in a state of faith every single day upon waking. I did one of the smartest things I've ever done. I started having conversations with people who seemed to have this ineffable quality I desired. I was directed to this and this . For 364 days the words delivered to my inbox were my first conscious thoughts of the day. It didn't take very many days for my thinking to shift from "if only" to "here it comes!" It was a beauty~full awakening and a lovely gift I gave myself.

Today I believe that I am worthy and amazing...that the dreams I would like to have come true can and will. I believe that the foundations are there, waiting for me to flesh them out with steps two and three: visualization and open~minded movement forward in a world that is set up to make dreams come true.

Visualizing requires so very little. It can take a split second...and that split second can hold enormous power. I started closing my eyes and imagining all the subtle little nuances of what it would look like, smell like, feel like, sound like, taste like and BE like to be completely immersed in my dream come true. I get as detailed as I possibly can with whatever time I have. When I do this, I experience butterflies in my belly or an endorphin rush or a peaceful mellowed out bliss. How can THAT be bad? Then it occurred to me that my mind doesn't know the difference between what I imagine and what outward reality is. My thoughts have the power to convince my brain that I am experiencing something that is only happening in my imagination. Whoa. What else can my thoughts do? Are they truly a vibration that can attract like vibrations? Overcome by wonder, I took that out for a spin.

So far, I was working hard in my heart and soul and mind. That's all internal and the world outside of my being is where the dreams were waiting for me. Intention was lovely but I realized it takes more than that. There has to be action. There has to be connection and exposure to these mythical, mystical vibrations if I was going to attract them! I started moving toward my dreams in some way, large or small, every day. Just a start...and it turned into a lifestyle. I regularly seek out web sites, like minded friends on social media sites or a blogs to follow. I have conversations, read books, take or teach classes. I go places I haven't been before and open my eyes and heart fully each and every place I find myself, being aware of people and opportunities that I may not have noticed otherwise. I smile and say hello, take my headphones off and listen to the people and the world around me. I vary my patterns of where I shop, where I park, my routes or mode of transport. I do something...anything. Just a start. Starting is where the magic begins...and I happen to love magic.

Santa doesn't wait 364 days to visit anymore. That wonder, excitement, gratitude, hope~full way of living that I knew as a child is back...and present every day as if the bearded man was delivering it in his big red velvet bag directly to my grateful heart...sled and reindeer preferred but not required.

My life is a series of dreams come true. I love saying that.


(If you're reading this and it's all too woo woo for you, read it again. Take the woo woo out. I've fallen in love with myself. I've found faith and happiness. I nurture my mind. I am a more present human being, fostering a connection and respect with myself and the world around me...including you. Woo woo removed, how can THAT be anything but great?)

Just Because...

Sometimes I sit here alone, feeling alone...feeling isolated and sad and sure that I'm the only person feeling this way while everyone I know is somewhere laughing...loving...living out loud. Sometimes. Not often. But lately. Yes, lately.

Then the switch is hit and the feelings pass. It never fails that when I tentatively step into the social circles again, I am blasted with reminders of how connected we all are. Our battles aren't so different. Our perceptions aren't so different. Our needs are so very much NOT different.

And today, this:

What if our religion was each other
If our practice was our life
If our prayer, our words
What if the temple was the Earth
If forests were our church
If holy water - the rivers, lakes and ocean
What if meditation was our relationships
If the teacher was Life
If the wisdom was self knowledge
If love was the centre of our being?

- Ganga White

AMEN!

Janxy no more

Thirty minutes ago I was suffocating. Couldn't breathe. Anxiety was creeping up the back of my neck, tightening the muscles and stealing my breath. I went outside, barefoot where I could tip my head back, focus on the sky and the grass and reconnect. The humidity stole my resolve. Surrounding me were obligations that I brought on myself but are stealing my serenity.

Still. Couldn't. Breathe.

I came back inside, read a bit but couldn't focus. Cleaned the house but felt the tightening creeping back up my neck. Took some action, however small...and felt the tears brimming behind my eyelids nonetheless.

Still. Couldn't. Breathe.

Then I heard it. Thunder in the distance, mirroring the thunder in my heart and mind and soul. I opened the nearest window and found that the incoming storm had sucked all of the humidity into the clouds, preparing for a downpour. My tears went too. My contribution to the upcoming storm.

All of the sudden, I could breathe.

It's truly amazing what little thing can change the course of an entire experience...and there is no predicting what that little thing might turn out to be.

This storm is magnificent.

Day Done of Beauty: A Post in Pictures :)

I'm behind. Waaaaaayyyyy behind in sharing my beauty~full things..

So, here's a glimpse...

♥ The dogs. Aden. Awkward...adorable.

(see the heart shaped white patch on his head?)

Feebee. Furrocious...fun.

♥ The casa.

(my baby boy's first vehicle title!)

♥ Around these parts...

(this was the window at the 100+ year old hotel where I had Thanksgiving dinner for breakfast today!)

A Couple More Days of Beauty: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥!

Thursday: ♥ Got to be the cool Auntie...to help and be there in a way that 2600 miles kept me from accomplishing previously.

Friday: ♥ A short solo road trip...Eminem and TSwift getting me there in a great mood...then crawfish dinner and IKEA shopping before talking with a lovely until my lids wouldn't let me listen anymore.

Saturday: ♥ Shop til we dropped, literally...an old town block of amazing...after picking up my new beach cruiser from a crazy Craigslist ad...cheap!!!

Sunday: ♥The smile on my boy's face was Mother's Day gift enough. A true smile. ♥ A text from my babygirl with a memory that made me smile hugely too! ♥ Spending the entire day with my momma...relaxing. ♥ A peeping then a crack in the shell...a peek at a little beak...gonna be a duckling mother soon!!!

Monday: ♥ A smoothie made by someone other than me in a lovely little place close enough that I can ride my beach cruiser to.

Day Thirteen~ish: Trouvé

So this isn't quite going as I had hoped. Commit to sharing three beauty~full things about every day for thirty days...be more aware of beauty, be more present in life and on this blog. Structure. Routine. Accountability.

Hrmph.

Not so much.

There have been forgotten days, day # 7 happened twice...I've rambled on without identifying what the beauty~full things were on one particular day and today I even forgot the password to gain access to this very space.

But.

One of my lovelies sighed heavily and said "I really meant to do the beauty~full things with you, but..."

And I replied "you've been too busy LIVING your beauty~full things to write about them!"

I think I fell a little bit in love with that. Thank you, my lovely...for leading, loving, living as an example and reminder and celebration of beauty.

Today's beauty:
♥Finding out my gaw-juss Aunt reads my blog.
♥Finding a pair of Free People wedge sandals in my size in my latest favorite color scheme AT A THRIFT STORE FOR $5!!! (psst...same shoes on ebay for $80!!!)
♥Finding out that my first love, my babygirl can't come visit. Beauty~full? What? Oh yes, heart~burstingly beauty~FULL!!! Because she is busy blazing her own trail and creating her beauty~full life.

Day Whatever: Old School.

My old high school sits there...it has a new purpose but the wide locker-lined halls are still visible through the glass doors at each end. You don't even have to get out of your car to see them, you can just pull through the bus drive. There is the cafeteria, where memories of thousands of lunches still linger...friends and laughter, drama, fights that no one could possibly remember much less remember what started them, a food fight or two, some of the best one-liners I've ever pulled off and even some frantic homework copying with minutes to spare. The auditorium where I can still smell the wood polish used on the floor, the musty aroma of the wardrobe room lined with thrift-store finds, Halloween left-overs and home-stitched frocks and the echo of our voices delivering lines. The office where Senior year found me working in attendance...mostly with integrity but occasionally the thrill of doing a favor for a friend. The English wing where some of the most nurturing souls I've ever met called home for hours while they fed imaginations and dreams. Student Council meetings were held there, and I sold donuts outside the doors of that wing almost every morning my last year there. There is the baseball field where we sat to watch the lanky boys do what they loved...and I remember thinking one friend's crush was sure to be famous for it some day...if only because with a name like his, how could he not? Ty Ganske. I wonder if I was right. The football field where the Friday Night Lights lit up and everyone took it as seriously as Sunday morning meeting. The drums. The players. The butt slaps and high-fives. The cheerleaders and dancers and twirlers. The band marching on the field and the color guard with their gossamer flags.

When I drive through that bus drive, those memories that have long been buried come rushing to the surface and make my heart ache a little bit. I remember the last week with all of the excitement of finally escaping the halls and walls and the work. The parties that were planned so elaborately and the time we knew we'd be spending on the beach or at each others' homes as we wrapped up our high school years together. I remember vividly one moment, sitting in the stands of the football field, practicing for graduation...we were hung-over, drinking Alka-Seltzer with our darkest sunglasses on...and time stopped for a second. It hit me that this was the end of something that I had no preparation to be without. We had grown up together, all of us...and we were parting. Soon. We would carry with us our memories and our intentions to stay in touch...some we would mean but some we would be incapable of following through on. This was the last time we would be together LIKE THIS. I was sitting in a crowd of people knowing that for many of us, this realization would hit and hit hard but I had never felt so alone or bereft as I did at that moment. Time started back up and minutes later we were laughing and planning the next night's adventure. That feeling faded and dissipated. I still had that day.

It's been over twenty years since that day. I drove through the bus drive recently and the feeling came rushing back. It's a breath-catching feeling like a punch in the gut...and I relived feeling alone and bereft all over again. I actually cried. I thought about what I would tell that younger version of me when time stopped that day...where I would tell her to place importance...who to cut loose and who to hang on to very tightly. Who would slip away and stay gone and who would drift away only to return when the rhythms of life revealed themselves to be the right timing. Whose time on earth would end too soon and who she would wish had taken their place.

The tears dried and like time resuming those twenty some years prior, it happened again...the feeling faded and dissipated. Those hurts were necessary. Those relationships that ended did so in tune to a rhythm that can't be predicted. Mistakes needed to be made and growth on our own timelines was absolutely necessary.

The sights and smells and memories and feelings from the past as I drove through that bus drive became a drum beat in my heart of a rhythm that is totally out of my control or prediction and the reminder came rushing back...just enjoy...today is what you have. Today. This day.

Day Eight: What I Want...That I Already Have

I vaguely remember Cinco de Mayo last year. I had just returned from a cruise...not just A cruise but AN AMAZING cruise. I literally partied like a rockstar...with actual rockstars. I came home smiling ear to ear, thinking that life still had spontaneity and fun and adventure...and that my impending 40th birthday didn't mean I had to become all grown up all the time.

Then it took over a week to catch up on sleep I lost on that non-stop party, the uncomfortable bed, the flights, the missed flights, another uncomfortable bed and a stilted drive home due to an extremely necessary but totally draining relationship implosion with a fellow traveler.

When I got my bearings, my 40th birthday was just over the next horizon. There is nothing vague about my memory of Dieciséis de Junio last year. I spent hours upon hours in the nurturing presence of a lovely soul...traveling again but this time more centered and balanced. I was surrounded by love, laughter, great food, drink, sauna, art, creativity and quirkiness in the US capital of Quirky.

It is almost a year later. When I came home from that trip, I journaled quite a bit. I knew I wanted more of something...some essence that I couldn't quite capture in lists of "what I want"...and there were many many attempts. That essence was simply more of what I had on those two trips combined.

Spontaneity.
Fun.
Adventure.
Love.
Laughter.
Great Food & Drink.
Creativity.
Quirkiness.

Sprinkle in some thunder storms, daily yoga, getting outdoors. Art...both creating and enjoying. Meditation and quiet. Beach. Squirrels.

It is almost three months since my world crashed. The entire thing. Where I live. Where I work. How I parent. Where I parent from. What I drive. Who I trust. Where I sleep. Where my money comes from. Who I am, basically.

Truly? Right now I have the time and the space and the exact environment that is listed in all of my above "wants."

Danielle LaPorte said it best: Here’s what happens when you find evidence of dreams come true in your current reality (even if it’s a stretch to do so)
: you take the neediness vibe out of your aspirations, and when you’re less desperate you think more clearly and act more calmly
: you muster up gratitude (and gratitude is a form of empowerment)
: you might realize that you’re further along than you’ve been giving yourself credit for (hello confidence!)

It's time to take the neediness vibe out and call on courage, gratitude and confidence.

What a relief...a permission slip to joy.

Day Four and Five of Beauty: Shaking, Silly, Sentimental and Smiles

Fun finds at the antique mall Saturday...

♥ The absolute ridiculousness of shaking salt & pepper from some of these...

strangely sperm shaped shakers...

and on that note...read her belly!


♥ An entire shelf of pirates...

and a glass globe full of...legs?


♥ A reminder of a little girl who lives on in my heart but is grown up and on her own now...


Sunday:

♥Waffles. With peanut butter. Mmmmm...

♥Girl time...talks and giggles and loving support...giving and receiving.

♥Turning in late...wayyyy late for me and finding a gift tucked into my bed...falling asleep with a smile.

Day Three: Fluffy Friday Flutters

♥A Friday that felt as carefree and permissible as a Saturday...all day long.

♥Dandelion fluff wishes...you never know where they might land.

♥The lovely flutter of anticipation when out of town company is on their way.

Day Two: Connection, Nature and Nurture

♥The lovely way the mysterious zappy internet and satellites have shrunken the globe to the point where just today I felt akin to a hug from four states, four countries and three continents.

♥The smell of fresh cut grass...it's just clean and fresh and earthy and summery.

♥My amazing boy with his adventurous spirit and brave soul.