Love is an engraved invitation to grief.

"Love is an engraved invitation to grief." 
Interesting comment.  
When you take down the walls and let someone in, eventually there will be grief.  
Yikes!  Why would you ever invite someone in if you knew how much it was going to hurt later?

Do One Thing That Scares You Every Day

Yesterday the fire department came to school to introduce the kids to the ladder truck.   This is a huge fire truck with a ladder that  extends a  full 155 feet .  You'll never guess who climbed to the top of the extended ladder!  No clamp, no helmet -= just nerve - I actually wanted to do it because I am not comfortable with heights.... I wanted to do something that scared me.  I wanted to challenge myself in a new way.  Let me tell you, it was a challenge.  About one quarter of the way up I started to freak out.  This was particularly understandable since, before I started the ascent, the fireman was telling me about someone else who had done this who had frozen up - couldn't go up, couldn't go down - they had to "rescue" him!  I was doing fine until I got that little speech -- anyway, I started to freak out a bit but then I told myself:  breathe, don't look behind, don't look forward, just look straight ahead, and go one rung at a time.  Ignore the crowd. Listen to yourself.  I got into a rhythm and stayed focused on the climbing.  It worked!  Good advice for life, heh?  

Solitude

I'm thinking about going invisible.  Or, put it another way, I'm thinking about disappearing.  Not in a bad way but in a private, fuck the world sort of way.  Drop the Facebook page, drop the blog, stop following the news, go inside, avoid people except at work.   On the active side, read as an escape, ride the bike, take walks, write for myself and myself only, paint.  Sounds like what I need to do.

I

Skin Over Bone

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop. ee cummings

       Before you can fight that battle, you have to know for whom you are fighting.  How do you separate yourself from everybody else?  How can you be certain that "yourself" has separated from everybody else?  And isn't later adulthood a bit late to be asking these questions?

      

I think I might have forgotten me.  

I moved on and left me behind? 

Or maybe I dropped me and

am refusing to deal with the pieces?  

I am trudging in some random direction.  

Navigating fear, or dodging its presence.

I don't see how I am going to come out all right,

whatever that might be 

and whomever I might be.

Choosing escape.

Choosing solitude.

Masks over masks over skin over bone over me

"We have plenty of time to fuck our lives up."

I hope this is true.  

Passion, Adventure and A Little Weirdness

The days are all the same.
Maybe that's how it is when you get past the surprises of life.  Some people insist that there are still surprises.  I guess there are but so much is already determined.  Your work life is set, unless you are downsized out of the job.  Your marriage is set or, at least you are supposed to be working toward that.  Your children are grown and their surprises are all their own now.  Sure, there are health surprises but they come along every few years and then you settle back down again.  Routine. And you dream about passion, adventure, and a little weirdness.

Pretty Lies

Feeling the warm sun on a random February day - all I wanted to do was breathe in the moment.  And hold on to it.  Wrap myself in that hour and pause life.  Make the out of control merry-go-round stop spinning.  Breathe and feel warmth, feel connection, disappear and yet be seen.  

It is what it is.  A story captivates me.  I am curious.  What drives the story now?  How was it shaped back then?   How are the story elements fused and blended?  Somehow I know I have things to learn from the story.

And so I wait.  Wait for more time.  Wait for more tension.  Wait for trust, connection, and surprises.

Curiosity must be patient.

January

Sinking down
January works it spell
or maybe it is life working spells
everything changes
what next?

Cliche of the Day

     The cliche of the day is the one about choices:  life is one choice after another.  It's all choices, whether you acknowledge it or not.  The tough thing about choices is that you never can predict the outcome.  You have to trust yourself and trust something unknown that all will be well.  There are the little choices.  Do I read or do I go out and do yard work?  Do I let the dogs in or let them stay out?  Do I have a cookie for breakfast or not?  There are the medium choices.  Do I spend money on a trip to Ireland or do I save the money to help pay for college expenses?  Do I get a mammogram this year or skip it?  Do I agree to edit the yearbook again this year or decline?  And, of course, there are the BIG decisions/choices.  Work or graduate school?  Marry this man or not?  Move to another part of the country or stay put?
     Funny thing is , even those little choices can get you. Surprises do happen.  Choices made that then led to the unexpected.  I chose to take a bike ride one afternoon and ended up with broken bones.  I went out to have lunch with my aunt one afternoon 35 years ago and ended up with a job teaching 8th grade.  I registered for a class one semester at SJSU and ended up getting divorced.  Go figure.
    And the big ones?  You do the best you can with the information that you have.  You make the choice and ride it out, never really knowing the outcome of any different options.   You made a choice and life unfolded.  And, still, surprises do happen.  Maybe even more so with the big choices.  And maybe all you can do is live and wait and be willing to be surprised.

The Long January

       It's an odd feeling.  It's January and I am not cranky.  I am not lost looking for springtime.  Yes, I am looking forward to the warmer days but I am oddly happy with the moment.  Strange place to find myself in January.  Historically, my January has been nothing but grey and damp and endless. Yet right now we are not even one third of the way through and yet I am not impatient with time.  Very odd.

       What's different?  I can't say.  I am happy with my work.  Busy and productive days connecting with kids and working toward necessary changes.  I am happy at home.  I look forward to weekends and naps and walks.  I look forward to evenings on the couch with Michael and Ellie and crosswords and Weeds and  soup and toast for dinner.  How can this be so different from past years when I slept January away?  When I pined desperately for springtime?  I am holding every day close and being glad for the days that I have, whenever they happen.  No more questions.

1/1/11

Yikes!  Look at all those ones!
We are at the beginning of something.
A race?
 No, not a race.
Just the beginning.
or maybe not?
Maybe just the same old life, only the next chapter?
But, wait!  Then this IS the beginning,
the beginning of a new piece.
So is every day.
So is every moment.