new york

Visited New York with my boyfriend this weekend.... the city that will always, for me, be one of opposing forces… the happiness of making new memories with my current
boyfriend – walking across the Williamsburg bridge at 1 am, finding bliss in
the spectacular cityscape in Dumbo, getting lost in the miles and
miles of books at the Strand... And then, butting in, on occasion, when I step
back, in the bathroom, during the pause, the awareness that comes from sharing with him
the old memories, ones that I carved with the other boy, the one I followed here as a bright-eyed college grad almost five years ago – the cheeseburger and the creme
brulee French toast at our favorite cafe,
the weekend farmers’ market at Union Square, the hum of the young energy of Second Avenue,
the eclectic buzz of the Lower East Side (where he lives now) – and the slight
worry that maybe, maybe, he’ll turn up where we are, an intruder on our fresh
memories, or my old memories reborn.

The girl I was, who worked at 46th between 11th and 12th, all the way on the water, who trained, bussed and walked to work and ate $7 lunch specials and was too hard on herself,
the girl I am, whose scenery is very different, who with the slowness and green and air can feel her soul opening up
to being more forgiving.

The love of the bustle and opportunity and people and plenty, the
fascination at the color and convenience,
and then
The yearning for the sacredness of the pause, the inner reflection. How can you
value something if you never want for anything? New York, the Google of
cities,
everything tangible is at your fingertips, everything
spiritual?
Always a distraction ready
for when you don’t want to look inside.

new

listening to music from india, walking
(slowly or quickly, depending on my mood), to work, paying attention
to how i move and how others move.
reading up on feminism, bodies and perfectionism and how we got this way...
setting up novel ideas in my head, and
expectations -- an equal parenting family (never before knowing there was such a thing,
an alternative), putting together bits and pieces of philosophies on how
i am going to raise my daughter, and cultivate my son, and expect of my husband. finally,
finally finding a yoga class i like, learning that i can support my pointy knees with towels,
catching a glimpse of krishna running
through sherbet colored fields,
floating home on clair de lune, on at just the right time on pandora
(remembering a beautiful moment when my beautiful friend played it on piano on one of our beautiful [too few] nights together. how her eyes fluttered closed.). loving cherries,
cheese, pizza with my boyfriend, the olympics, our cat on the edge of the couch,
eating, without analyzing -- just tasting.
living, without analyzing, just tasting.
good god, everything tastes so good.

glass half full

I am so, so tired of being a nobody.

Ok, I am somebody. I am a curvy body and a brilliant mind and a deep heart. I have wide thoughts and can paint vivid pictures with my words, I feel the vibrations of people, pulses beat in my ears, new songs fall on my lips, I dream of guitars and tambourines and sometimes I have realizations -- what those in churches or religions might call "epiphanies." I can also hear the breathing of flowers, I can sing on key, and I think you and you and all are/is beautiful.

... but you wouldn't know it.

... because I am afraid.

I know I am meant to add a chapter to the big Book of all the men and women before me but I don't know where to start. I don't know, exactly, what to say. What. to. say. So many ideas, but where are the Ideas?

Fear of imperfection, long within my veins. Since I came out of the womb with black hair and wincing, skeptical blue eyes. The big birthmark on my milk-white skin that called out that I was different, that this was a unique and marked child. My quest, all my life, to cover it up. To do all right, but not great. To sing, but never into a microphone. To climb, but never to the top. To look, but never leap.

To live, but in peace -- do not disturb.

And while I know there is maturity in peace and thankfulness for the daily breathing and blessings -- the waking in the morning, the set schedule, the available food and roof, the decent sleep and the accepting love -- there is equal pain in denying what you can possibly be. A dissonance and an easiness. At night I am not tired. My resources are full and unused. I fall into my pillow instead of collapse.

But the words and phrases and ideas keep coming in. The stir to get them out gets stronger. I don't know what it will look like, in the end. I don't know it it will help anybody. I don't know if it'll stand on bookshelves for years or simply be stumbled upon by a few random Internet explorers.

I don't know, I never will. But I'd like to try anyway.

and i said WHATEVER,

i don't care what you and you and you think!
take your rights and wrongs and ideas and judgments and ...

and then suddenly life got a whole lot better, and
my breath came back into my lungs.

this man is amazing



Phoenix Police Officer Jason Schechterle's life changed forever when his patrol car was struck from behind by a taxi going over 100 mph. His car instantly burst into flames, and 50 percent of his body was scorched by the fire.



I can't imagine the reconstruction of faith it must require for someone who is able to go through an experience like this and come out with this perspective. I speak solely from observation, but I think humans can take extreme tragedy in two ways -- they can take it as a grave and bury in it with an extreme, all-questioning exhaustion, or they can take it as a beginning and be reborn from it with a profound new wisdom. Simply continuing your life as before is not an option.

Those two processes are not mutually exclusive. I believe it takes a lot of time and a lot of grief before you get to the point of acceptance of something truly life-changing, and I believe that, once you are there, the fight is not over -- you must constantly restrengthen yourself and realign yourself with what you want out of your altered life. The inner resolve that must take, day in and day out, battling with loved ones, strangers, your faith and yourself, with your own questions and doubts and anxieties, must be exhausting. I can only hope that, should I ever face such an experience, I would possess such fortitude.

Please watch the story of Jason Schechterle and share your thoughts. Like NieNie, whom I have been following for years, he amazes me with his strength.

the speech they never give

"We are systematically creating races out of things that ought to be a journey. We know that success isn't about simply running faster than everyone else in some predetermined direction. Yet the message we are sending from birth is that if you don't make the traveling soccer team or get into the "right" school, then you will somehow finish life with fewer points than everyone else. That's not right. You'll never read the following obituary: "Bob Smith died yesterday at the age of 74. He finished life in 186th place.""

 Read this. Some excellent advice here, even if you're a few years past your graduation.

mine and yours

all the talk about babies and weddings and all the updates on facebook, friends and friends of friends -- yeah, they're pretty far removed -- and then GOOD friends, like my roommate from a couple years back, pregnant, due in late july with a little girl whose name they're keeping secret and whose room they want to paint blue, who she insists will be a giants fan and he a redskins fan, who they're buying a "family car" for and giving up the hot vw convertible we used to drive down rock creek parkway with the windows down and tom petty playing... and then he sends me pictures of rings and asks my opinion, time to make their little family official... in the next month or so he'll ask the question and she'll say yes and then it'll be three, their dog, their condo, with the new hardwood floors and the blue nursery...

the wholeness, the comfort of it, the THIS IS MINE,
the smell of baby cheeks,
baby kisses,
baby fingers,
looking at something that your love created it and loving it more than you love each other and even yourself,
deciding -- enough playing,
you are mine, i am yours,
forever.
here is our baby
our house
our dog
this is where we live
this is what we like to do
this is how we love.

i can't wait for that feeling.

so g-d m-f READY

so.
many.
freaking.
FEELINGS.

ever just feel... antsy?
at 12:19 am? on a saturday?
staring into space, staring at your fingernails (one out of 10 is green, the others pink), shaking your leg with nervous energy, just wondering...
pondering,
what's next?

i want something GOOD.
i want something i can sink my teeth into,
that feels nice and cool when i swallow it, and then
satiates me.
i don't want another
god damn mother fucking
"transition."

what is a transition
but wasted time?
or time spent waiting?
the clock still fucking ticks
while you wait,
and your time falls off
bit by bit.

i want my LIFE to take off...
the energy is boiling,

it just needs to know
where to go.