Vulnerability, and the Journey

Today I got sucked into a major existential moment. But it feels necessary. I blame the upcoming treinticentennial (yes, I made that up).

First, you HAVE to watch this TED talk. Talk about getting down to brass tacks. And please note that the author must go in to the question with her whole self in order to speak to the human condition with any real knowledge.

Also, I'm in love with a blog. Momastery. She does the real, hard, beautiful thing with panache.

Here's a poem from someone else, to guide your days:
Desiderata
Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy.
-Max Ehrmann

I began asking myself a few days ago how exactly I know that God is speaking and moving in my life. I'm getting some indirect but inescapable answers. The life moment I am in is particularly vulnerable. And I really want to have the courage to be IN IT and love it and accept it and wrestle with it and above all BELIEVE that I deserve great things. That my story can (continue to) be great. Which is to say, it would appear that I may lose as much as 60% of my work/pay in just 3 weeks, and the chance of me getting clarity immediately is slim.

But this is where my heart is :

to be known was always the goal
and the fear
to really go - out there - with all of it
like standing naked on a highway,
which i have never done.
what is it about this world that turns fearless babies' hearts
to worry
and makes us henceforth crawl our way back
to authenticity?

why were we separated?
the big bang shuddered us eventually into life
of struggle and imbalance
and fear.
why not stay in the sweet oneness
where questions don't lead us into the dark
where we must fight with ourselves
to find a true way
based in creativity and love?

the early peoples understood that these
were the fundamental questions:
who decided we should know both good and evil?
and what in the world can reconcile us
to that sweet whole from whence we came?

my question to the inward and outward skies remains:
is the journey back really the blessing or the curse?
but that is not for me to decide.
(poem by me)

Busy

I take offense at the idea that if I say I'm busy I'm boasting. Generally when I'm busy, I'm not necessarily happy about it. I much prefer days and days of sitting around, catching up with friends, soaking in the sun, with no schedule. I agree with this author that there is great benefit in moments of ease and synergy that comes unexpectedly while eating ice cream.

I will admit that after a stretch of very full days, it takes me a day of really being "off duty" to wind down, and it's usually a little bit, um, emotional. The scary thing is that I haven't had a day like that in a long while. I think sometimes we get stuck on overdrive and even keep ourselves busy on days off. My next big break is going to be on my birthday next week, since I have it off of work and a day to do what I wish. Luxurious freedom!

What really messes with my head about how busy I am at work and in my personal life is the idea that if you put your head down and do each of the next things you think you're supposed to do, you can end up somewhere totally different than where you wanted to go. In fact, much of my desire to be organized stems from this fear. I set goals, I check in, and I try to step back. But I can feel the force of everyone around me also moving faster and faster, sucking me into it. So I have to fight back to get that critical space in which to think.

Highlights

This week was, um, yeah. The highlight of my afternoon today was eating my cheese quesadilla, since I recently learned that hard cheeses are lactose-free (since lactose is my new nemesis). I have LITERALLY spent a month saying to myself, dear god, how long until I can have some melted cheese??? That's just not a question you ever want to be asking yourself. And then I got to have some! It WAS as marvelous as I remembered.

The highlight of my day was, up until a minute ago, my lunch with one of my new local buds. I honestly am not sure that since high school have I met as many excellent friend-matches as quickly as I have here. Love this town. Love it! Also, I MUST have lunch with a friend once a week. That's on the list of lessons learned about working from home. For sho. Although... I think that was just as true when I worked at an office.

But the new highlight of my day? Surprise guests. At my birthday. EEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  So, part of the short sad story of this week was that my brother had offered to host a family party for me and then somehow (I'm afraid to ask) forgot? and scheduled an out of town trip for the same day. So... I felt a little, um, forgotten? But we will push forward nonetheless and it looks like I will be seeing lots of my favorite people the week of my bday. Which is, well, FABULOUS. Fabulous. I can die happy. All thanks to the hubs who realized I wanted someone else to plan my birthday and DID IT. Even though I am looking over his shoulder occasionally to stir the pot, mostly I am out of it. And surprises brew. I love it.

Oh, did you not know? I'm turning 30 in 2.5 weeks. How could you not know? You must be new.

Also, mah friend K turned 31 today. Shout out! It used to be that we pretended we had the same birthday but just switched years... so either we would both be turning ... wait... now it doesn't make any sense to me. Hm. Teenage brain math must differ from adult math. Anyways, she's the bees knees and I hope she knows it!

My Own Geography

David Brooks just made me cry. Not surprising that he did, but how he did, and the type of crying. He often says things that frustrate or depress me. This time it is maybe the opposite.


The key point: Don't try to be everyman. Be yourself. In particular, know where you are from, even. A simple thought. A good thought. Based on Springsteen, somewhat surprisingly (or not, depending on how much you know about Springsteen).

And this is hard for me, because part of who I am is inherently pluralistic, sampling styles. It's a huge part of how I learn what I like and don't like - I take pieces from the people I meet. I merge into their world to see how it feels. I guess what reading David's essay made me realize is this: that can be my way - the eternal explorer, but at the end of the day I still need to know who I am. Where I come from. With my own concrete story.

I currently live in the 13th home of my life. Ooh, that's not a good number. Moving on... Consequently, I have sometimes struggled with the results of the many moves during my life. But actually, I tend to think of my wandering past as a good part of who I am - why I appreciate the friends I have and keep in touch well (ok, better than most at least)... why I enjoy going to new places and don't fear the unknown... why I have a good sense for different parts of the country... and so on. This history is a part of who I am that I value. So the question is, how does that fit into what he's talking about?

Specifically: what is my paracosm? A place where all are welcome, with intuition guiding me, full of heart, proactive, thoughtful... and I needn't change that. The question most plaguing me is, how do I fully HONOR that? Integrate it.

I've been having competing ideas about my writing recently. Specifically, my poetry. Should I try to publish/sell my poems, or just let them be? Should I compile them all into one place so they don't get lost? (Yes.) The tricky part about publishing is that I don't write poetry the way some people say you are supposed to write. My poems aren't about plants and natural phenomena. Or images, necessarily. But neither were Bukowski's! I recently considered submitting to a local poetry publication, until I learned they only accepted poems if they didn't have "I" statements. So I didn't submit. I think all my poems either have an I statement or are about me.

But last winter I discovered Christian Wiman's poetry, who it turns out is also the editor of Poetry itself.... and his poems were reminiscient of mine - spiritual, emotional, personal. So I had the crazy thought that maybe I should submit something to Poetry magazine. As a gift to myself, honoring the importance of my voice, honoring the gift of my writing.

This past weekend I had the great luck of hearing an exceptional poem read (by the author himself) at a wedding. It stunned me with its personality, its poise, its insights. Afterwards, I told the author so and said that it made me reluctant to say I write poetry, since I am not sure I can achieve such awesomeness. And he emphatically said no, no, don't say that. So I won't. I have to respect the man's advice.

The hard part is loving your own gifts enough to put them into the world without also adding your own judgment. There's a difference between working hard and preparing well, and hiding.

I have some hard questions to face about whether or not I've been hiding my gifts by being a mirror of the gifts I see in others. Recently my gifts have been becoming apparent to me inadvertently, one by one, showing up and saying hi. And for now, I am just trying to take note of them so I don't forget who I am. Where I came from. A home that goes back before the moves ever began, and was with me throughout every step.

What's really crazy is that now I'm all out of free NYT articles for the month. Good thing that's just a few more days.

The Fast-Paced Life, marked with moments of zen

How can I convince the hubs to let me do some personal projects during the 8 hour car ride we have on Friday (and Sunday)?? But oh my goodness am I excited about this weekend - we are going to a best friend from high school's wedding... and let me just say, when you've seen your friend go through ups and downs and the curvy road of finding the person to marry, the idea of seeing them marry someone you're genuinely excited about just brings you so much joy! I fully expect to bawl my frakin' eyes out. Hope to get that over with before I do my reading!! (also incredibly excited about that)

I am feeling so much great support in my life right now, and I really appreciate it. My husband, my family, and my friend-family, are all just so excellent and positive and affirming. So thanks, guys. You make it all worthwhile. You really do.

The best thing that happened to me in the last week was going to the beach with Dad and the hubs. Saturday was a PERFECT beach day. The right temp, sunny but light breeze. The water was cool, but comfortable. The sign said the water was 60 degrees, but it felt way warmer. The waves were perfection. No jellyfish to be seen. Plenty of room for bodysurfing (i.e. not hordes of small children everywhere). I did the things that come as instinct - dive in at the bottom and duck under the wave, turn and lay flat to ride it in, turn upside down to exit, swim and swim and swim. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Summer. At last. Back at the beach chairs, Dad asked how married life is going, and I said awesome.  I am super grateful for that as well. It's nice to be able to have our wacky moments here and there (and honestly here and there and not here and here and here), and to know that it's still allll gooood.

The second best thing was spending fathers day with my dad and my siblings and their families. Cookout, some badminton, some tasty drinks. Such neat people - so relaxing to be with. And finally (finally!) I feel like we fit in. Like we are welcome and wanted and such.

I am feeling better physically, except for my arm pain. I really need to set up my handsfree stuff better... but finding the time to do that is SO HARD. That, and filing, and reading professional articles.... how do people ever find the time to do those things? I know, you make time. But I just never do.

This morning there was a wicked thunderstorm - it was so great! And now it's warm. Luckily, I have this new contraption in my life - a portable AC unit that fits in my office so I don't swelter all summer. Yes!!! All thanks to my stepmom. A really thoughtful gift. It was actually an early birthday present.

Yay birthdays! Less than a month til I turn 30. Watch out, world! You just don't know!

Could get lost tonight

City - Sara Bareilles

There's a harvest each saturday night
At the bars filled with perfume and hitching a ride
A place you can stand for one night and get gone
It's clear this conversation ain't' doing a thing
Cause these boys only listen to me when i sing
And i don't feel like singing tonight
All the same songs

Here in these deep city lights
Girl could get lost tonight
I'm finding every reason to be gone
Nothing here to hold on to
Could i hold you?

The situation's always the same
You got your wolves in their clothes whispering Hollywood's name
Stealing gold from the silver they see
But it's not me

Here in these deep city lights
Girl could get lost tonight
I'm finding every reason to be gone
There's nothing here to hold on to
Could i hold you?

Calling out somebody save me i feel like i'm fading away
Am i gone?
Calling out somebody save me i feel like i'm fading

In these deep city lights
Girl could get lost tonight
I'm finding every reason to be gone
There's nothing here to hold on to
Could i hold on to you?

Wedding Wisting

Things are freakishly good right now with the hubs... a very good friend of mine is about to get married, and there's some super sweet chit chat going on at APW about wedding memories. So since I have no idea if I already wrote these things down or not, here's just a few things I will (hopefully) always remember... or at least, I remember after more than 2.5 years:

- my sister saying I looked like Alice in Wonderland peering around the trees, when i was looking for my prince waiting at the other end of the garden for our private moment
- crying the minute I saw him
- not crying from then on for the rest of the wedding day
- sinking my bare toes down into the sand and feeling the stress and excitement melt away into peace and joy
- discovering that my dad had put extreme amounts of thought into both our walk down the aisle and our first dance
- the impromptu addition of my sisters and dad to the laying on of hands my bridesmaids and mom did before i saw chris
- the nausea that permeated the morning prior to that moment
- getting the phone call from my brother in law who couldn't come on the way to get ready
- laughing laughing laughing at the ceremony
- chris's groomsmen beaming at me
- dom picking up my shoes and bringing them to me
- the flowers wilting and dunking them in the fountain to see if they'd revive
- listening to the party going on without us and kind of enjoying it
- the hug i got from my uncle
- the kiss on the cheek i got from ben
- the hugs i got from my cousin's daughter, and her saying i was the prettiest bride she'd ever seen
- stealing as many hors doeuvres as i could before we had to go sit for dinner
- trying to go talk to people while they ate dinner and not making it to more than 2 tables
- running out of sangria and ordering more
- dancing in the circle around the courtyard fountain with all my friends
- dancing dancing dancing in that white dress
- chris's dad dancing with me
- the perfect sunset
- the bubble bath explosion
- clearly choosing to give up the magical sheen surrounding us from getting married and go have brunch with my mom the next morning out of nowhere, as a gift to her.

and it occurs to me, for the first time since then, .... did we start the ceremony late? which is funny because i clearly clearly decided that time did not matter very early on that day... but now i'm curious.

Home again. In the place where my inclinations are real and heard, but my words must be chosen carefully, since what we have created is a forever place. I hear the calls of a favored few, needing to know they are not alone. I even hear the calls of those who blinked out without hellos or goodbyes along the way. Our bodies move us in and out of space, increasingly less likely to reach the same spot twice. I am waiting now for the signs I need to see. I am offering my gratitude to the angels who bring me treasured tokens of joy. Paddling the waves of life is no metaphor, the tides are real, the depths scary. The sun is either hot or hidden, the clouds can always mean rain. I'm looking for the other kayakers, as usual, and keeping my eyes on that point on the horizon where heavenly rest awaits. I know we'll get there while we are still breathing. I have been there before. Just keep moving towards it, just keep afloat. We tell ourselves what we need to know to keep from going under.

cleaning out the poetry cache

my days are infused with lessons
and the themes overlap
the moments work together to tell me things.
i have learned that we get tired
and sometimes the path is so rough that we fall down
but even when the distance between springs is far
we must keep walking

i have learned that opening is painful
and there is resistance on the inside to change
but there are treasures to be found beyond the strain
we must keep breathing

i have learned that life is crazy
and can knock us over without warning
but even when our hearts are broken
we must keep living

i have learned that i know little
and the search for truth is elusive and long
but there is still much to be learned, and so
we must keep trying

i have learned that we are all connected
and no life is borne alone
to have the strength to walk, to breathe, to live, to try,
we must keep loving

poem: reach catch close

perhaps we are all transparent
to one another
shimmering in our frail shells
completely awake and yet asleep
to our own patterns
we pounce on the obvious flaws
of those around us
and then forgive with thoughtless haste
or burdened pride
rarely offering a simple gesture
of recognition
yes we are all innately broken
the holes are rarely filled
in looking back
we discover our own mistakes
and have a choice:
attempt to hide our humanness
behind fragile walls,
or reach through the fabric
to catch each other
in a sweet soft embrace
pulling together
to close the gaps.

poem: her bare shoulder

her bare shoulder

we offer you, sun,
our bodies to be washed in light,
as we live outside
where man-made walls do not separate,
living with vigor, with joy,
letting the freckles appear on our arms
as we lift our children,
as we plant our seeds,
as we reach for each other and squeeze.
there is something powerful
about a woman's shoulder
where the arm begins
the curving shadows of muscle -
it is not the feminine of fainting
or frailty
but it is the feminine of creation
and strength
that comes from giving our bodies
to the light
from living outside, bare with truth,
from offering all that we have
to the world.

it doesn't make a good story
sure there are some parts that come out nice
brightly colored and visual interest
but generally no i don't have something fascinating to say
just that being human is this thing
that overwhelms my senses and my soul
that loving is so hard when it's for real
that i know that suffering is what you have to do
to get to something beautiful
that when something seems close its an illusion
but that's nothing you don't already know
basically i'm just trying not to repeat my mistakes
or the mistakes of those who've gone before
i'd really like to get through with a few true friends
and without hurting anyone i really love
it's hard when what you need isn't available
and asking doesn't bring it any closer
and pouting just reflects the darkness back to you
but i feel alone in those moments
when i feel stuck in the wrong direction

even this poem can't be beautiful
it's just what i have to say right now
and whether or not it's enough
my choice is to love it or not.

sincerity (a poem)

i need words more than they need me
they force my driftless mind into sudden surety
the one direction i can find
i must find
they are a solitary venture
which for me is a necessary escape
from a life filled with responses
a life where i am an evolving creature
ever fastened by the styles and patterns of others
taking on what is necessary to realize my self
i also leave behind my essences
momentarily
a dangerous adventure
(since they are inescapable).

in almost thirty years
i have been a thousand versions of my self
epically losing and finding
my way
i am a willing inhabitant
on this turning earth that somehow
turns hours into lifetimes
i have never resisted the passing of time
and she has begun to show her kindnesses
returning objects that offer solace
in their familiar company
linking me with selves i was once
and always want to be.

i need colors and creations that are only mine
in ways i cannot explain
like the face that stares back at me
with knowing eyes
at once foreign and intimate
she is my destiny and my muse
i realize she is always with me
waiting to see what will be preserved
when i step into my world
start shedding language
shredding intentions and anticipations.
i can feel her more closely now
above the din of instinct's clatter;
i can speak her truths.
is it age making me honest?
or am i relearning something i knew better
once before?

Change

i'm still adjusting
to this my unexpected perfect home
still finding it dreamy
and content
but somewhat shattered by the
completeness of the changes.
the loneliness surprises me
making me wonder if
the task is to get more comfortable being
free to know myself truly
or if i need to practice being
free to be myself anywhere.