Sunday, July 06, 2014

39

this past week, I celebrated my 39th birthday. so hard to believe that i've reached the age where i can truly say i'm almost 40. where exactly did the years go?

on the cusp of that milestone, i am scrolling through memory albums and making lists of new memories i want to create...new things i want to do or experience. and really, i can think of so many things that i haven't yet done, so it would be easy to feel pressured or down about how much time has gone by that i have 'wasted.' but if there's one thing i've learned it's that life isn't a waste. for those days i spent lying on the couch watching tv, maybe i just really needed the rest. for the days spent crying or carrying on about something, maybe i just really needed to work some things out. for these and many other things in my life, i am learning to forgive myself. to cut myself some slack and to avoid the waste of worrying. because that really is a shame - to spend even one minute kicking yourself or wishing your past away.

i've made all the choices that i've made and i'll continue to make all the ones to come. i'm owning it this year. good, bad, indifferent - they're all mine.

and as i check off items, one by one, i know i will have a few people around me who truly get it, who love me and are proud of me because they know what courage it takes some days to just get by. and by God, i am grateful for those souls. they have saved my very life on more than one occasion. they are, quite often, the inspiration for adding new items to my lists, for giving me the pep talks when i need them, and for holding my hand when i've disappointed myself. 

and i am learning, even, to be that friend to myself, finally. to be the voice of forgiveness and acceptance over the criticism. to be the one who says 'try again' when all i see are unmet hopes and dead ends. 

nothing is perfect (nor will it ever be) and i'm learning more and more to be okay with that. i've got another year around the sun, God willing, and i'm going to make the most of it. my camera is charged up, my pen is poised, and i have fellow adventurers at the ready. let the next leg of the journey begin. one memory at a time.

p.s.
memories created in the past 5 days of this new birth year:
*watching the sun set over the chesapeake bay on my birthday evening, complete with a few sparklers and fireworks
*falling down in the ocean and laughing as the waves knocked me back again, over and over
*feeling the warm air on my face and the sunshine on my shoulders
*eating truly amazing food - my first 7-course chef's tasting menu - and documenting every bit of it in photos
*smelling the salt air
*finding new fun places in and around my favorite beach spot
*having deep talks and lots of laughter with my best friend
*watching fireworks from locust point on independence day with my fellow baltimoreans
*experiencing some july days that felt almost like spring - low humidity, warm sunshine, and great breezes (what a gift!)

Sunday, March 09, 2014

just a thought

in all my musings of late, i have come to a conclusion. taking the high road can sometimes crush your soul.

that is all.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

the other stuff

the first two months of this year have basically flown by. 2014 started quietly, in my apartment, with my best friend by my side, while my lungs crackled and whistled and struggled to take in air. i wasn't sure i'd ever breathe normally again. when something takes over your body like that, it's hard to remember life without it.

but, here i sit, weeks later, breathing deeply and sitting at my desk on a sunday morning eating some cereal with blueberries, feeling quite grateful to be alive. i am learning, more and more these days, to listen to my body and to heed its warnings. when i'm tired, i sleep. when i'm hungry, i eat. when i'm full, i put down the fork. when i feel antsy, i move. when i'm working too much, i stop. these are basic concepts. and you'd think i'd have figured them out by now. but in truth, the other stuff of life (stress, pain, etc.) often gets in the way of what is really appropriate self-care.

so during the holidays and the beginning of the year, i had a lot of time to think as i lay on my couch trying not to cough. and i realized that the other stuff, whatever it may be, isn't my real life. it's like layer upon layer of paint on a perfectly good piece of wood that doesn't need adornment. so much extra that, rather than adorning, it hinders the original form, muddies its beauty until someone has the good sense to strip it away.

so in the coughing and wheezing and shallow-breath moments of clarity, i came up with a short list of what matters to me (in no particular order):

my relationships
my body
my sanity
my future

none of these things can be truly cultivated, nurtured, and protected if i don't remove the other stuff now and focus on the heart of the matter. so, bit by bit, i'm trying. trying to listen to my inner murmurings, trying to shut out the doubts and fears and worries about letting others down. i got sick by letting me down, and i'm really not interested in that happening again. this year i'm trying to allow peace and restoration to take over my life in an effort to focus on what i want rather than worry about what i don't. without knowing just how deeply she was speaking truth to me, yesterday my best friend randomly started singing the familiar line from a bob marley song:

'don't worry 'bout a thing, cause every little thing gonna be all right....'

and this year i believe that it will. i really do.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

stained

whenever i purchase something new, there is always that feeling of enjoyment that comes from the pristine-ness of the thing and the follow-on desire of wanting to keep it just that way. and when the first mark or blemish appears on the shiny possession, there is a kind of loss that goes with it. for years i wouldn't use things people gave me, for fear of this loss, and i battled over whether to keep the things in their packaging and never use them so that they could stay perfect forever, or to let them become the way everything else in life becomes: marred, dirtied, and (eventually) broken.

a dear friend of mine just had a baby this past week, and when i went to visit him in the hospital, all i could feel was how small and perfect he was. how loved. how utterly wanted and protected. in his clean-slated state of being, he hasn't yet experienced emotional heartache, sadness, loss, or anything that might prick his tiny heart and make him feel tarnished or bruised. and oh, how i would love to keep him from ever feeling that way. how i wish i could preserve his sense of peace, support him learning only positive things in life, make sure that what he experiences from the world is nothing short of love.

but that's not possible, is it? if he (or anyone) is to go on about the business of real life, then the bumps and bruises are inevitable. he will not stay a baby forever, and once he begins exploring the world, he will feel its barbs interspersed with its joys. so the answer seems to point to one path: to live life and run the risk of being stained by it.

and i'm okay with that answer. i'm all right with the idea that nothing is perfect—nor was it ever intended to be. but there are paths in life for some folks when things do go pretty well and intentions are good. there are band-aids and antibiotic creams to treat the scrapes. there are cleansers to wipe away the smudges and splatters. there is someone there to tend to the hurt and the pain and the loneliness. if the attention is quick (if not immediate), the hurts brought on by the world are lesser than if left alone. there isn't time for ick to dry and harden on surfaces (or, worse, do damage on an even deeper level), and things can move along pretty smoothly.

but then, there are people for whom 30+ years pass without things being addressed, without wrongs being righted, without stains and marks being wiped clean (or at least scrubbed to an acceptable shine). and for those folks, the question remains as to whether it's possible to move from a life that feels rather stained and broken into something that resembles that shiny new-ness that once was. to bring back the wonder and childlike awe of new feelings and sights and sounds. to put the past behind you and redirect yourself to a path that is of your choosing and not simply the hand you were dealt. i have to believe that it can happen, but whether it will is another story altogether. the choice lies within the individual (me, in this scenario) to pull out the tools needed to make things right again.

so, here i stand, filled with doubt and trepidation, holding my best 'scrubber sponges' and heavy-duty 'cleaners'. i have only my mind, my heart, the drive to change, and the repeating refrain: it can get better. it must get better. it will get better.

Friday, June 28, 2013

coming into focus

obviously my attempts at writing this spring fell off the wagon. ah well, there's always the summer catch-up to get everything back in gear....

tomorrow marks the start of my birthday weekend. monday is the day, proper, but i don't have time to take off from work and frolic, so saturday and sunday will have to do.

beauty for ashes
this year i'm in the headspace for healing and making reparations. over the next couple of months, i have some mini trips planned to revisit places and spaces that make up part of my past. and it is my full intention to document them (likely through photos, or maybe words) and to bid them a kind of goodbye. sometimes the memories hold us too close and the creation of distance is just what the doctor ordered.

not all of these trips will be happy for me. in fact, they will involve looking back on some real sadness and pain, but i am hopeful that in the midst of the discomfort, i will find some joy. and believe me, i'm open to that joy coming from even my acknowledgement that yesterday is not what holds me anymore. the truth is found, instead, in my todays and my tomorrows.

and so, on the near eve of 38, these are my thoughts. i light them like a candle and let them burn into the ether. and through the smoke and ash, my vision is clearing ever so slightly. here's to less blur and more clarity in my 39th year. let it be so.

Monday, April 29, 2013

eleven years

today marks eleven years since i started this little blog. it's unfathomable to think how far i've come in that time...how much about my life is so very different than it was then. at the same time, so many things are (for good and for bad) the same. i've had some lofty goals, you see, and very few of them have come to pass. i suppose that makes me a fickle soul...or maybe just someone who can't stay focused on one thing for very long.

actually, i think what it really is is that i have things i want to do, but i allow other stuff to get in the way. it's frustrating that i do this, to be sure, but one thing is true: i am farther down the road than i was back in 2002, and i shall not pass that way again....

once in awhile, i take some time to look back and lose myself in words i wrote years before, astonished at how much i need to hear them, even still today. they are gifts to me, reminders not to lose sight of what i hold dear...not to give up despite how hard things can be sometimes, or how much disappointment rears its ugly head. my past is a blessing to me, in spite of it all. it has made me stronger than i realized i was, and it consistently, gently reminds me of how fragile life is [read: don't take everything so seriously, sarah].

here's hoping that eleven years from now, i will look back on this day with a smile and say, 'oh, if you only knew that the very best thing was just around the corner. turn the page and keep reading, girl. it will get better.'

and dear reader, whether you're here for the first time, or the eleventh, or the hundredth, i hope you'll keep reading along with me. i want to know how this story ends....

Sunday, April 28, 2013

sunday, not-so-fun day

i've made a decision: sunday is my least favorite day of the week. my bff and i were discussing this earlier today over lunch. and see, i actually LOVE sunday mornings (the brunching, the delicious sleep, the puttering about), but once noon/early afternoon hits, the all-too-familiar pit begins to form in my stomach. you know the one i mean—that sense of dread that accompanies thoughts of getting up to go to work on monday morning. and really, it isn't because i don't like my job. it's more about the fact that i have to have a job...that i am beholden to anyone or anything.... to make matters worse, even though i am closer to 40 than 30, the sunday night blues from my school days never really left me.

what i need, dear reader, is to win the lottery so that i can set my own schedule, be my own boss, and write my own story from minute to minute. it's not that i feel 'above' having to work, or that i wouldn't toil over something if i didn't have a job, but any such toiling would be over something (or somethings) that was on my own terms.... see? that's quite reasonable, isn't it?

i thought you'd think so.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

'let the river run....'

last weekend, i traveled to the land of the great lakes (well, one of them) to see one of my most favorite people and her almost-9-month-old daughter. leaving my charming city was also on the agenda; i needed to get out of dodge for a few days to clear my head and go to a house in a remote location with a river lazily drifting by out back. a river, i might add, that was more than 3 feet above what it should normally be. this also meant that some fields...and front yards...looked like mini lakes. it also meant that the grasses were already lush and green with spring despite the snow that fell the night before i arrived.

i spent 2+ days in a house with the darling bebé, along with a sweet, huge yellow lab, a brand-spanking new golden puppy, two cats, and a partridge in a pear tree (to say nothing of the mr. and mrs.). in the midst of this little family, making its way in the world, i was reminded of something: i am like that river, solitary and kind of mucked up and moving through life almost without even realizing it. no one depends on me for anything outside of work. i come home and i eat dinner (or not), wash dishes (or not), do laundry (or not), and talk to anyone (or no one) as i see fit. no one will die if i don't feed them. no one will object if there are socks on the floor of the living room. i have no one's mess to clean up but my own. and it's lonely. but it also can bring a measure of peace and calm.

that's the thing about life, i think: you have to find that balance between total independence/solitude and constantly surrounding yourself with other people/animals/things that need your attention. life on either end can be exhausting and make you feel like you're being sucked under by the currents, but if you can find that sweet spot in the middle, you can swim along happily for quite some time.

in the moments (few and far between as they may have been) i have been in that sweet spot, i feel the most like my pure self. there is a kind of sanctity in those times, and if i could bottle them up, i would. but the river of life continues to flow, and with it come the changing currents, the mud and sticks and other crap collected from distant shores, the knowledge that everything is temporary and what is good must be enjoyed now before it gets swept away in an instant.

now hear me: i'm not saying all of this to be negative. if anything, i feel encouraged and reminded that, to find that sweetest place in life, i must open up to the uncertainties...to what lies around that next bend in the river's path. i must continue to be vulnerable and to put my heart on the line for the things that i want. i must seek to avoid regret and invite the cleansing and renewal that new waters bring. it's not natural for me to do this, you see, but i figure if i'm going to conquer my own destiny and find the life i want, i have to plunge head-first into the rushing waters rather than simply allow life to float me along. and yes, that also means that the possibility of drowning is real, but i have those swimming lessons under my belt from 30+ years ago and just enough hope to keep me afloat. it's a start.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

'[none of] my bags are packed; i'm ready to go....'

this weekend i will board a jet plane and leave my charming city for a couple of days. to say that i need this getaway is more than a bit of an understatement. and what's more, i'm going to spend time with one of my favorite people on this earth - and her wee little one.

most of the time, i'm all for facing troubles head-on, but sometimes what is required is departure. at least for a time. my stress built up for too long until i had a bit of a meltdown a few months back. since then, i'm trying to be more cognizant of the slippery slope that often means me sliding quickly into a place of muck and meh. i would prefer to keep my feet on steady ground and take care of myself, you know? i feel like i deserve to give myself at least that much.

so, in the interest of mental health and the aforementioned handling of problems, i've been trying to spend more time outside of my own head, open my heart a bit more, disconnect from the drama around me (because even though i loathe it, it is easy to let it affect you), and do things that i enjoy. novel concept, no?

and now what i know is this: in 2 short days, i will be face to face with a river, a baby, a soul sister, and a margarita machine. what more does a girl need? at this point, just clean laundry and a boarding pass. i think i can handle that.


Wednesday, April 17, 2013

neurotransmitters FTW!

some days, i'm just thankful to be alive to see some sort of resolution come to fruition. i mean, really. do you know how many loose ends are lying all over God's creation just waiting to be tied? it's staggering.

the last couple of days have been particularly stressful due to some conversation hanging in limbo and making me CRAZY. crazy, do you hear me? i do not do well with periods of radio silence or failure to come through and return a call. it does not sit easily in my little ocd heart and mind. no, instead i obsess and require myself to take melatonin (or something stronger, if need be) in order to sleep at night.

and speaking of melatonin, other than the fact that it gives me incredibly strange, almost hallucinogenic dreams, can i just say that i love how calm it makes me? how perfectly relaxed and carefree about most anything? as soon as a stressful thought enters into my mind, my brain will literally instruct me not to think about it, and i just drift peacefully off to sleep. brilliant! oh, how i wish i had thought of these little magic pills. i would be SO rich right about now!

and speaking of those beautiful little tablets, i'm going to take one post haste and drive myself straight to wacked-out dreamland. goodnight, internets!

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

boston

i am decidedly anti-news. my best friend considers herself a bit of a junkie on that front, but i do my best to avoid the daily influx of mostly useless information coming in from sources 'round the globe. when tragedy strikes, however, i tend to go the other way, finding myself all-too-sucked in by the constant stream of video after video, until i cannot do anything but dream the events through fitful nights of pseudo sleep. 9/11 was the most extreme case of this for me. for days on end, i did nothing but watch or listen to the news, unable to tear myself away from the television and the endless barrage of pain. after that event, i vowed to try and avoid such extreme behavior, in a somewhat futile attempt to protect myself.

what happened yesterday at the boston marathon is yet another reminder that life is a tenuous thing. we are clinging to the brink every day, and all it takes is one lunatic to change it all. in a situation like this, i really cannot avoid the stories, the pictures, the human side of the mess. it is the only thing real that unites us.

so with the others still clinging to the brink, i will do the only thing i know to do: pray for the lost, pray for their families, pray for all those affected by this event.

and my hope is that the lunatic will not win. that the runners' spirits will not be daunted in the face of this terrorist act. that hope will prevail. that real humanity will.

Monday, April 15, 2013

tweetin' ain't just for the internet

i'm not sure whether this is a new thing, or whether i haven't noticed this until just this past weekend, but there are some birds in the city that chirp/tweet/sing 24-7. seriously. these little guys (or gals) have been up at 3:00 a.m., 6:00 a.m., 8 p.m., etc. and i'm just wondering whether they're working in shifts or if they just never sleep.

i suppose this means that there is no rest for the weary, the wicked, OR the little birdies?

in any event, it's monday all over again. here's to hoping it ends better than it started...which, if i'm being honest, could apply to anything in life at any point in time. i just know one thing: if i were a bird, i'd be taking a nap right about now.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

v-neck sunburn: a glimpse into something more

my life is, for all intents and purposes, rather boring and limited. i know that may sound like a really negative thing to say, but it's true. really, it is. i hardly leave town. i primarily visit only my 'typical' haunts (i.e., restaurants, stores, etc.), and my phone rarely rings (and when it does, it's often one of maybe three or four people). these days, anything outside of my usual routine feels extravagant, exciting, and/or downright scandalous! and, mind you, this is entirely the result of choices i have consistently made over, well...much of my life.

so yesterday, when i went out into the sunshine with some friends and came home with a slight sunburn, most of which can be found on the lower part of my forearms and on the front of my chest where my button-down shirt hadn't covered my skin, i felt downright rejuvenated. up for adventure. wishing i could do this kind of thing every day.

that's the thing about real life, isn't it? to suck the marrow out of it makes a person want to live even more. it has compounding effects. it is, in essence, the opposite of where i spend most of my time.

so really, i have nothing profound to say, except that i want to make different choices. here's a small hope, put out there into the void, that i will be able to do so. sunburns and all.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

To have and to hold....

This morning found me at the funeral of the father of my high school best friend. I sat there in the church, hard pew beneath me, and thought about how time passes so quickly (truly) and how much I wish I had given less of a damn for so many years what others thought and had worried less about what ‘might’ happen if I had chosen my dreams over the safe path. But my road was my road. And my pain was my pain. It’s best, I think, to make peace with that while one can before half your life disappears out from under you. A hard truth to feel…more uncomfortable than the cushionless pew beneath me....

The service was a basic catholic Eucharist, and I managed to hold it together for much of it until the priest was wrapping up his homily. He recounted that toward the end of his life, my friend's dad was trying to communicate something to her mother, his wife of 43 years, but he was struggling to speak. When he finally got the message across, he repeated it to his bride, over and over: 'to have and to hold...to have and to hold....'

In his final breaths, it was the LOVE that mattered most. It was the love for her, for his family, that he wanted both to leave behind and to take with him into his final sleep. It was that love that, beyond the grave, left me in tears that still, hours later, continue to catch in my throat.

Days move quickly lately. Months slip past, almost unnoticeably. Years are gone in a matter of breaths. It is the LOVE that carries us through. It is the LOVE that makes the hard pew of life more bearable for one more day, one more hour, one more minute.

I don't know what to do with myself, half the time, but I do know what I want. I want the 'til death do us part kind of love. I want to make my peace with what still needs to be surfaced in my own life...to put to rest the things that are preventing me from living more deeply, from having what I want out of life.

And although I am sad that it was death that brought me to these thoughts this morning, I am profoundly grateful for the chance to redirect myself while there is still daylight to burn. It's life I'm after. It's love I want. It's continuous perspective I need. I'll take these gifts where I can get them. However they come, let them come.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

walt whitman would be so proud....

this weekend has been quiet. not that i haven't listened to music, watched movies, etc., but i really haven't spoken to anyone (save the pizza delivery guy when he phoned to verify my apartment number last night). sometimes silence is the right choice.

i'm in a headspace right now that i would define as not entirely great. there's a lot going on, to be sure: some good, some not so good, and as i'm typing these words, i'm realizing that i'm not even sure how to articulate where i am.

but i can say this: i have been mostly head-down, nose to the grindstone for the last few years, and in being that way, i had shut off parts of myself for the sake of productivity [read: just to make it through the day, the week, the month]. and until recently, i kind of knew that, because every once in awhile, something would occur that would remind me of the rather empty interior life i'd been living. the light would go on for a few days and then shut back off again [read: again, survival mechanisms kicked in].

recently, however, an external force cracked a fissure in my armor, and the gap has been slowly widening. and with it has come some really good and happy feelings...a lot of hope, even. but then rushing behind all of that is everything i've been packing away and not giving air time to because, again, ijustneedtomakeitthroughtheday!

so i find myself here, in a place of true in-between, and it's a lonely place to be. i comfort myself a bit with the fact that it's likely no one is reading this, so maybe i can be a little bit honest for a minute....

i need a new daily life. i need to find a way to open the long-neglected closets and sweep away the dust that's been settling there for the last few years. i need the mental energy to be myself, to be creative, to cook and write and do the other things that feed my soul. i need to give hope the space it deserves in my life. and what's more, i need to start actually living that hope again.

so, maybe just saying it out loud will be enough (doesn't the internet count as 'out loud'?). silence may be golden, but in my life, what is more often called for is a barbaric yawp from the rooftops. so here, i am, world. hear this:

YAWP!

(and let it be so.)

Saturday, February 09, 2013

anything could happen



no disrespect to ellie goulding's pop hit, but i don't get most of the lyrics. no matter, though, because the refrain rings true nevertheless.... "anything could happen."

if the last month of my life has taught me one thing, it is to listen to the voice inside that rises up over and over, telling you what is yes and what is no, guiding you to turn down one street and avoid another, and reminding you that the face you see in the mirror—while very much you—is only just a piece of who you are. it is quite easy to distract yourself from hearing it, because the world is filled with loud noises, internet feeds, and shiny baubles, but there is truth at the bottom of the can and it would do us all well to pour ourselves out and let it be what it is.

it might sound silly to mention this, but for the purposes of cataloguing my own existence, my ravens won the super bowl. yes, this is an exciting thing, and yes, it has been a long time coming. but what is even more miraculous about it is that my whole heart knew this would be the outcome. i do not take credit for this knowing, because it came fully from outside of myself, and yet that voice...it was that voice that told me to believe what i could not yet see and what most people said was impossible. and during every game, when things could have gone another way, i heard that voice coming out of my own mouth, proclaiming victory for my birds and, moreover, for this underdog city i hold dear.

and if this town, more than scruffy around the edges, known for the wire and an at-times hellish crime rate, can rise up and make a name for itself, surely i can as well, no?

this week, i found a fortune cookie in my car. not sure where it came from or how it got there, but its message was clear to me: "a dream you have will come true."

oh, if you only knew what dreams still lurked there, deep inside. if you only understood the precipice upon which i find myself standing, over and over, only to turn back around and head the other way because i'm afraid, or because i don't feel like i have any other options. i just can't do it this time, though. i have to turn my face to the wind and let myself be blown back, undaunted. the truth drives me into the unknown and gives me the faith to keep moving when hope seems farthest from me. in this vast world, with all its hurts and all its uncertainties, it is hope that reminds me that 'anything could happen. anything could happen. anything could happen. anything could happen. anything could happen....'

and there goes the little voice again....

Wednesday, December 05, 2012

Not Just Where You Hang Your Hat....

In my life, I have done very little traveling, and what traveling I have done has been mostly by car, up and down the East Coast. And though I want to see and taste and feel so much more of the world than that and am sure I have yet to see the most amazingly beautiful place I'll ever see, one of my favorite places in all of life is in the mountains in Centre County, Pennsylvania. For the first 20-some years of my life, my grandparents had a home up in those hills, and 150 acres of land to boot, with horses, pastures, gardens, and lots of open space to run and play. Those mountains were where I went to escape from the stresses of home life, to be myself, to sing at the top of my lungs while running through green fields, and to sit at the feet of my amazing grandparents whose wisdom and kindness refreshed and nurtured my little-kid heart.

Both of my grandparents are gone (grandpa in '97, grandma in '03), but those mountains still calm my blood whenever I see them, even from a distance. The winding roads bring back so many memories of summer afternoons on the way to a lake for a swim and picnic. The little farm houses tucked up on a hill might contain some distant cousin...some little old lady who has my grandmother's eyes. There's family there, still, both living and passed on. The little church down the hill from my grandparents' former house is a historical site in Pennsylvania, my grandmother having led the charge to restore the building when she was in her 70s (yes, the woman was up on scaffolding from early morning until the sun set each day, doing much of the work herself!). And next to the church is a cemetary in which those dear souls were laid to rest. It is appropriate, I think, that the mountains hold them now. So many salt-of-the-earth folks returning to the dust from which they came. It is the dust that I, too, hope to make my final resting place someday.

So, while I do not now, nor may I ever have a house or apartment in those Pennsylvania mountains, the hills and valleys hold some of my sweetest memories, my songs, my tears, my heart, much of my very childhood. And for that, they will always feel like home to me.

I am participating in Reverb Broads December 2012 writing project. Today's prompt: What is your favorite place in the world? What makes it so special? (via Kate)

holiday memories

as a child, i never ONCE sat on santa's lap or got my picture taken with him. why? because i thought he might abduct me. so here's a shout-out to my grandma (may she R.I.P.) for instilling in me a healthy (?) paranoia and/or right-off-the-bat suspicion of all strangers. especially those wearing costumes or waving from the fields outside a penitentiary. God, i miss that woman.

Friday, November 30, 2012

writing to reach you

it has been an age since i've put finger to keyboard and thrown my thoughts out into the void. but it's a friday night, i'm home alone (as usual), and something has compelled me to write. i was talking with a work friend earlier, and after a meeting about "important matters," we wound up getting into a conversation about things that really matter...specifically, the freedom in living outside of people's expectations. growing up, i cared deeply about what everyone thought. i cared so much, i was paralyzed by too much fear to do most things. i was worried about whether i'd get teased, or whether i'd get shamed, or whether i'd get in trouble, or whether someone would stop loving me if i messed up. honestly, it was just exhausting. in my 20s, i did a lot of soul searching, of tearing down and rebuilding, of breaking free and walking down new roads. my 30s have been about carving out space for myself, pursuing my interests, furthering my education, and drawing lines in the sand. and believe me when i say, that's been so freeing for me, in so many ways. i have made a life for myself that i wouldn't have imagined 10 years ago. and yet, in the midst of my carving, i may have closed myself off a bit to things that i never intended to...throwing the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. so here i am, a month before a new year begins, and i'm feeling the need to reconnect to something. maybe even to someone. i've missed writing. i've missed listening to music and digging in deeper. i've continued to let work consume me for the better part of two years, and even though i keep promising myself i won't do that anymore, i still do. now, having said that, i'm not trying to please anyone here. this isn't about performance or approvals or anything of that nature. this is about getting in touch. with me. with you. so that's it. i'll try to write more. i want to do it. let's see if i can....

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

the hush of a turned page, the beating of my heart

i have decided that this is the summer of reading and daydreaming. okay, maybe more reading than daydreaming, if i'm being honest, because i don't know that i have much whimsy winding through my cardiovasculars just now. but reading? reading i can get into. good prose takes me to a happy place. even though my eyes get tired and i stay up WAY too late on most weeknights, i find my creativity returning to me. and that makes it entirely worth it. right now, i'm about 10 pages away from finishing a fantastic book by tiffanie debartolo called 'how to kill a rockstar.' her first novel, 'god-shaped hole,' devastated me when i read it in the early 2000s. i mean, it completely broke my heart and i walked around in some type of stupor for several days, unable to handle what leapt up off the page at me and choked tears out of my eyes. there are some books that i just devour, and both of debartolo's books fit that bill most appropriately. so much so that when i tear myself away at the end of a chapter, i feel my pulse racing a little, wondering what's going to happen next. and the characters' angst? i connect with it, deep in my bones. seriously, as i'm typing this, i'm realizing that although i live much of my life in a very cerebral place, how can i deny that i'm anything other than a total romantic? and when i close this book, i have many more waiting in bags lying about my living room (either from my latest trip to the used bookstore or my jaunt over to the huge, old library less than 2 blocks from my downtown apartment), ready to take me on my next emotional rollercoaster. in the absence of male companionship this summer, these books have become my lovers. i take them to bed. i think about them while i'm at work in a particularly long meeting. i avoid answering the phone in the evening just so i can soak up one more page, one more chapter. they are what quicken my breath. they are what trouble my soul. they are what calm me and bring me back to life when i'm feeling particularly blah. and if i play my cards just right, maybe they will be my muse and lead me to pick up my own pen again....