December 11 - Things

I’m participating in Gwen Bell’s #reverb10 challenge this month which means 31 days filled with daily writing/photography prompts meant to reflect on the past year and at the same time look ahead.

What are 11 things your life doesn't need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

I could easily list of stuff, articles of clothing, extra towels, dishes, extemporaneous gadgets, kitchen equipment ( i have loads of that crap), but the move back across country helped me purge my belongings down to a lean and not so mean gathering of the minimum I could get by with. So I find myself with little to discard, but states of mind, resentments and judgements. There are opinions I hold dearly that really, no one should have, there are attitudes, and mind sets that really belong in my past life. The list then, would be shorter than 11 but I will try.

1. Impatience - with you, me, the cat, the world...really what is so important that I can't stop and breathe?
2. Envy - do you really have it better than me? If you do, great, but I really should give this one up
3. Sloth - I have one shot and one shot only, do I really want to spend my "one wild and precious life" watching television?
4. Greed - I have enough, I have always had enough, I have always had more than enough, so why do I want so much more?
5. Self-centeredness - I may feel alone a lot of the time, but I am not, not in the least, I am one of millions and I need to pay attention to by neighbors, my fellow citizens, my country and my planet in a new and more thoughtful way.

December 10 - Wisdom

I’m participating in Gwen Bell’s #reverb10 challenge this month which means 31 days filled with daily writing/photography prompts meant to reflect on the past year and at the same time look ahead.

What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?

After 14 years in a relationship that had gone horribly bad after about 4 years, I left. After 10 years of contest, conflict, competition, bartering, badgering and all around crankiness, I walked into the bedroom and simply stated, I don't want to be in this relationship anymore. It had been a long time coming, years in the making, but after four days spent with a friend, who would, it turns out, be my soul's mate, and many, many tears, it was easy, and the words fell right from my lips.

Wisdom is a strange word defined as a deep understanding and realizing of people, things, events or situations, resulting in the ability to choose or act to consistently produce the optimum results with a minimum of time and energy. It is the ability to optimally (effectively and efficiently) apply perceptions and knowledge and so produce the desired results. Wisdom is also the comprehension of what is true or right coupled with optimum judgment as to action. Synonyms include: sagacity, discernment, or insight. Wisdom often requires control of one's emotional reactions (the "passions") so that one's principles, reason and knowledge prevail to determine one's actions.

How did it play out? Better than I could ever have imagined, different from everything I thought could ever be. I had known so deeply in my soul that there was more, that love could be had, held, real, I knew that she had been so wrong for me, and yet I had stayed, and tried, and toiled. But here I was, in this new life, back in a place I loathed, and yet blissfully, completely and entirely whole and happy. I had lived for years in fear, fear of reprisal, fear of losing, fear of being alone. But the fear was so outweighed but the prize that I saw in front of me, that I leapt, I grasped for the brass ring, and my hand came back full of jewels.

December 9th - Party

I’m participating in Gwen Bell’s #reverb10 challenge this month which means 31 days filled with daily writing/photography prompts meant to reflect on the past year and at the same time look ahead.

It was the first warm night of the year, the snow had melted weeks ago and the chill had held on...but this night it was warm, no cicadas yet, the spring was not yet in bloom, but we were out, walking the streets, my fellow Atlantans, unfettered, without glove or hat, and we were all feeling sexy. The party was an art opening, my first of what I hoped would be many nights out in my newly adopted city, and I had on a new scarf. I chose pink pink pink for my party clothes, and I drove down Peachtree past the Fox theatre with all my fellow citizens walking, drinking, talking, a convivial spirit enveloping the city. The people were as light as air, the mood was frivolous, gentle, laughter and clinking glass. The food was party fare, finger-y foods, white wine, gin and tonic, this is the south after all, and the characters were in full promenade. I met a politician, a broadcaster, some artists, some trophy wives, everywhere was skin, prickly white in the almost cool first of spring evening, but we braved the gooseflesh, we had had enough of wool and down, and cotton and silk were dancing around like Chanel Cruise collection on a runway model. The music was inconsequential, the dj spinning moody tunes, punctuated by a bit of hip hop when a local rapper joined the crowd, the room was bright, well lit for the paintings, and the conversation swift. I was carted around to each of the leading men and ladies, regaled with tales of Atlanta, its dark, light and funny sides, much like the roads here, all conversation lead to Peachtree Street, How can there be so many streets with the same name? I laughed at the tales of dogs, wrecked cars in ditches from late nights with too much drink, good old boys and college football. I told my tale of my first try at fox hunting, I was already initiated, accepted, a beloved, for southerners adore daring-do.

Looking back now, from my home in Los Angeles, I see that moment as I see all of my short 6 months in the South, as a treat, a bon bon, a petit four, a glimpse into a life that would not be mine. A friend of mine once told me "when you look back at the past, don't stare". Too true Molly, too true. If I were to reflect, and hope to manifest again, then it is I who must seek out the night, the warmth, and I will not judge the Autumn by the Spring.

The Way I love you

The way I love you feels
Like the wind in my hair
and sugar on my tongue
The way I love you feels
Like sunshine warms my face
and fingertips slipping through rushing water

The way I love you feels
Like the lick of a fire on a cold winter night
Like the crisp smooth glide of fresh sheets on naked skin

The way I love you feels
Like the scent of dew in the morning
and the sound of leaves crushing under my shoe, damp, and moldering
freshness and earth, life and death,
sweet and heavy fog blanketing the coast,
comforting us with her bellowing horns

The way I love you feels like all my childhood memories, favorite meals, beloved toys, books, stories, best friends, scraped knees,
The way I love you feels like all things great, good, small, sacred, secret, whispered, shouted, cried over, promised,
like crossing the finish line, like licking the bowl, being tickled, milk out the nose laughing, sappy movies, making love, sleeping in, getting a kitten, losing a cat, reading and old love letter, regret, hope, remorse, faith, fireworks on the fourth of July

The way I love you is so quiet, so deep, so a part of me, that you beat in my veins, flow through my lungs, you are in me, part of me, have always been here, I have never been without you.

The way I love you feels better than anything I have ever known.
You are my alpha, my omega, my soul's closest friend. All I will ever feel will be this.
This is how the way I love you feels.

Keith Urban said it best

I continue to be brought to my knees by this love of ours… I am in awe of how this blessed family we are creating stretches and fearlessly opens my vulnerable heart…and I just want to be a better person, for you, and have you go to sleep every night knowing that no one has ever, or will ever, love you as much as I do…and all we need is faith.

Again? Yes

So here I am, again. Yes. Again. On the floor. Forgotten it all over again. Where have I been these last 100 days? Making love, making bread, making the bed. Busy getting busy. Busy having my way and calling it something else. How easily it slips away. How easily I can fall right back into the abyss. The blind spot. The pink cloud of desire has wiped my brain clean. Well, only partially clean. Like cleaning the 10 foot high windows on our old house in San Francisco, no matter how many times you spray, smudges remain. I have smudges on the brain. Smudges of compassion, smudges of hope, smudges that remind me where I came from, where I have been, the miles I have walked, run, crawled to get out of that mire, and find myself here, in some sort of hazy mindfulness. But mindful I am, even if all I am aware of is my own lack of awareness. So easy to be caught up in this new life, this new love, to walk so tall and proud of what I have done, what I have made, like some demigod I prance, chest, breast held high, puffed and ready to be adored. Arrogance is a sneaky bastard. Lies down with you at night and wakes you in the morning like he has always been there. Today, however, he is banished. And I will peer through my smudges and attempt to regain my poise. I will try once again to walk with my head held not so high, but high enough to see the truth.