out

i would like to move swiftly past the pain,
drama, intensity, bleak and black.
i would like to have learned the lesson,
without going through the learning.
i would like to have moved on to the next step,
without sloshing across this muddy terrain.
i want out. i want out of the tightness and pain
and anger and deep, heavy dry tears.
i want to swim through this, run by it,
move forward, take a big leap, sneak past,
without deciphering the images or words; without
even looking or listening.
this is a horrible pain, and i am still not sure
what i could have or should have done to avoid it.
i fear my train is destined for wreck after wreck.
i fear i am unable to sort out the reasons, the whys or
what fors.
all i know is this is nearly unbearable, and i can't sleep.
and that there are worse things in the world, and i
shouldn't complain so much.
if only everyone else would stop complaining so much,
if only i could catch a break, i would. catch it and hold
on to it until tomorrow morning. fly with it beyond
the mess.
please watch yourself. please be careful. notice your patterns,
your mistakes. understand why you do what you do. don't be blinded
by routine or shoulds.
as grace said her dad says: the only constant in life is change.
the only other constant is choice.

go for the best choice. please.

red.

My dream this morning:

I walked calmly uphill from countryside into a small town intersection much like Hinckley. Autumn in full swell with deep, rich colors. Jack 'o lanterns and squash and scarecrows and straw hay abound in peoples' yards and on the streets. My family moved forward ahead of me; I was comfortable taking my time on foot. As I walked on the right side of the road, a black woman with short dreads, dressed in a city style, appeared walking on the left side. She made her way uphill to a storefront, and I heard neighbors' whisperings about "Isn't that the editor of _______?" A famous print like Vogue or Elle. I was intrigued about her visit to this small place. In the windowed door of the store, I saw a bright-blond Abby, of about 4 or 5 years. As the woman approached she greeted Abby, who responded by introducing herself, then her brother Ben and sister Erin, the latter two out of my sight. The woman said she thought the name Erin sounded familiar, and Abby told her it was because she had met Erin a few years earlier.

I never stopped my slow amble. I felt happy. To my right I came upon a child of 3 or 4 standing alone at the end of the driveway at the side of a house I don't recognize. She was wearing a dress and had bright red, almost orange hair and blue eyes. It was me, and I knew myself. I smiled, walking, and then decided to stop for her. I knelt down in front of her and looked in her eyes and asked whether ours were the same color blue, to see if she noticed that we were the same person. She said Yes, Because I'm you when you were little. Want to see a photo of Mom? She ran inside without waiting for a reply.

I woke up, so impressed by the little girl who was quite confident, independent and beautiful. Also by the fact that my mother let her so near the road without supervision...I continue to feel protective of her, upset that she never saw this life coming, and I want to right things for her.

oh dear.

everyone is saying i have a problem.
a heavy problem.

wish it wasn't so.
i would like to make a life
i like.
i would like to start over.

unfortunately, you can't begin another
until you've wrapped up the previous.
gulp. wish it wasn't so.

deep breath. here goes.

The Laughing Heart

your life is your life
don't let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you changes.
know them.
take them.
you can't beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
them ore light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

[charles bukowski]

*i think i like this guy.

i want to play

a secret 25Things game with myself.

1. Vanilla is my favorite flavor of ice cream. (I know, I can't believe it either).
2. I count myself as extraordinarily lucky to have 5 1/2 best friends.
3. When I was younger, I had a remarkable obsession with the Holocaust.
4. Please don't touch my feet. Please.
5. I love having time for brunch. And then, having brunch.
6. Considering my family's history, I am so grateful not to have alcohol or other substance abuse issues.
7. I wish I knew more about and had more exposure to jazz.
8. I am becoming frighteningly jaded about love/relationships.
9. I am completely confident that in my later years I will find the peace and ease I crave now. I look forward to my 40s, 50s and beyond.
10. I visualize myself in this way: bare feet, white-washed wooden floors with a tu-tu hanging on the wall and a mimosa fresh for the drinking.
11. I am proud to be an only child.
12. While I have, at times, craved the presence of an older brother, I am lucky to say that I have had several older-brother-type figures in my life, and I appreciate their influences.
13. I wish I had a passion that was also a talent that was also a livelihood.
14. I am firmly on the Palestinian side of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. But I understand the complexities involved. And one of my life goals is to solve that ish before we all end up nuked over it.
15. I secretly love going to the doctor because of all the extra attention.
16. If given the opportunity I think I could recite The Sound of Music screenplay verbatim.
17. I don't believe in video games. (Except I heard about this Wii program where you can compete in cooking competitions - there's a whisk and stir function, etc. - and I might be up for that one).
18. I do believe you can tell a lot about a person by the manner in which they approach speed bumps. I fly over them like they don't exist. Suspension-susmenshun.
19. In yoga I found a spiritual out-and-in-let that doesn't insult my intelligence. I love that, and I love it.
20. I will always be fiercely proud of my hometown and high school (I still hate on private schools the world over). I will never move back.
21. Most of the things I criticize are things I secretly want. Just a little. Except mango and pineapple. That's real-life loathing.
22. I peed in my pants twice (!) in kindergarten. If you were there, and you know, I appreciate your anonymity.
23. S. Carter is and always will be the greatest. Yeah, I said it.
24. I really, really wish somebody would just tell me the right answer.
25. If I could be any animal, I would be a duck. With benefits.

You know that feeling you get when you haven't heard from a friend in ages, and you have so much to talk about that you feel completely overwhelmed and don't know where to begin? Not a peep from your mouth because it would be an unexplainable and out-of-context drop in the bucket?

A am à la that tonight.

So much. I feel stunted. I feel flattened out, smooshed down into a raw piece of chewing tobacco. I feel brown and sad and disappointingly uninspired/ing.

What happened to me? I think, for the first time, I miss myself. I would like to live my life, just for me, for a moment. I'm exhausted and hurt and aching. I need my friends, and I miss my family.

I need help.

Help!

good grief

it's been so many months and i feel obligated to update.
i'm a mess.
only...sometimes i feel like a class act, and sometimes i feel like sand (that's a significant step up from dirt).
i'm trying - i promise - i'm trying so hard to do the right thing. sometimes things are so great and i believe that all the pain and struggle was worth it. my efforts and risks and the hard stuff was worth it. but other times i can't believe the state i'm in. the disrespect i accept is my own, towards myself, and i am shocked. i want to disrobe and discard the present, step lightly into the future, holding my breath. i witness myself pulling, reaching for something to make the pain ease, just a bit. please, make it go away for the afternoon, until tomorrow, i'll be ready tomorrow. i've tried on so everyone's perspective: that of dear friends, family, authors of various books, and nothing sticks, or fits quite right. i want to believe that if i dig down deeply enough, i will find a treasure trove of strength, wisdom, honesty and compassion towards myself and others. but i wonder if i'm standing on the chest of gold and i just can't see it.

ashley says i have great intuition; i am humbled, but i think that's true. the hang-up: heeding that intuition. i have gone over and over and over the same feelings, and i feel like my wheels are spinning endlessly. i'm waiting for permission, or for someone else to take over, because i don't want to do this myself. i don't want to be at fault or turn everything upside down. or be blamed.

anyway, my update is: help. please, i am asking, even praying, for clarity. for peace of mind. it doesn't help that i am neurotic as hell, with over-analysis and second-guessing as my specialties.

i read today:

In the entire world, there is not one human being who is free from struggle...
It is proper to welcome struggle, for its arrival is always auspicious...
It is alright if we cannot receive struggle with love but struggle should never be discarded. To discard struggle is to discard God's grace.

- from my favorite Swami Kripalu.

I am full-on wrestling with God's grace, and I fear I'm beyond my weight class.