here's hoping this covers it.
30.8.06
29.8.06
anticipation
There's so much of me that's all wrapped up in anticipation at the cusp of a season's change. And it seems especially so in the transition from summer to autumn, my two favorite seasons. As Paige and I were rocking on the porch swing tonight, reading out of her big fairy tale book (which is already so loved my next project is to repair it's spine) and generally chilling before bed, I noticed how very early the sun has decided to set.
It's so cool tonight... crisp enough that on the porch, I am thinking I will soon need a quilt for the swing. I feel a project coming on.
Tonight I'm thinking about all the things I'm anticipating. And how much I love anticipating, in ways... and do not, in others. Let's be honest here. I'm not a patient woman. When I want something done, I generally pursue it to the finish line. Right. Now. And perhaps there is a lesson for me in the relentless pursuit of the next accomplishment. I savor the anticipation. For 10 minutes. Then I want what I want, right now.
I just felt tonight like I needed to remind myself that waiting is half the fun. Once you get to the apple orchard, take our your sweaters, shut the windows and bleed the radiators, collect leaves on the parkway, fall clean, wash the thicker quilt and lay it out on the bed, start (with a bit of chagrin) to wear socks again, put away the sandals, start drinking hot coffees in the morning, need a sweatshirt for the morning jog... it's over. Autumn's done, and the pumpkins are frostbitten and saggy like sad little old men, and the snow comes and it's cold and dark and lonesome for the next 4 months.
It's so cool tonight... crisp enough that on the porch, I am thinking I will soon need a quilt for the swing. I feel a project coming on.
Tonight I'm thinking about all the things I'm anticipating. And how much I love anticipating, in ways... and do not, in others. Let's be honest here. I'm not a patient woman. When I want something done, I generally pursue it to the finish line. Right. Now. And perhaps there is a lesson for me in the relentless pursuit of the next accomplishment. I savor the anticipation. For 10 minutes. Then I want what I want, right now.
I just felt tonight like I needed to remind myself that waiting is half the fun. Once you get to the apple orchard, take our your sweaters, shut the windows and bleed the radiators, collect leaves on the parkway, fall clean, wash the thicker quilt and lay it out on the bed, start (with a bit of chagrin) to wear socks again, put away the sandals, start drinking hot coffees in the morning, need a sweatshirt for the morning jog... it's over. Autumn's done, and the pumpkins are frostbitten and saggy like sad little old men, and the snow comes and it's cold and dark and lonesome for the next 4 months.
19.8.06
officially a junkie
Well, it's official. I'm a music junkie.
I've filled th 20GB iPod from 2 Christmases ago.
Ok, big deal... it's 20 gigs.
Someday, when I have some money again, maybe I'll go upgrade myself to a 60GB. (excuse me, I need a moment alone while I think about 60GB...)
In the meantime, I just want to take a brief moment to reflect on music. For so long, music was an integral part of the fabric of me. And I put it on the auction block, thinking I'd trade it for a life I thought I wanted.
Well, something that flows in your veins isn't so simple to get rid of. It's a bit of a small wonder to me, then, that just about 3 years ago, I had a handful (read: less than a dozen) CDs to my name. Thank God for downloadable mp3 files, or I'd need an apartment just for my music... but I digress. What I am really trying to capture here is how thrilled I am to rediscover and fall in love with music all over again. I thank a few fantastic guides along the journey... and just want to say how fantastic it feels to come home to a big part of who I really am ... who I always have been... and who I never want to forget, again.
I've filled th 20GB iPod from 2 Christmases ago.
Ok, big deal... it's 20 gigs.
Someday, when I have some money again, maybe I'll go upgrade myself to a 60GB. (excuse me, I need a moment alone while I think about 60GB...)
In the meantime, I just want to take a brief moment to reflect on music. For so long, music was an integral part of the fabric of me. And I put it on the auction block, thinking I'd trade it for a life I thought I wanted.
Well, something that flows in your veins isn't so simple to get rid of. It's a bit of a small wonder to me, then, that just about 3 years ago, I had a handful (read: less than a dozen) CDs to my name. Thank God for downloadable mp3 files, or I'd need an apartment just for my music... but I digress. What I am really trying to capture here is how thrilled I am to rediscover and fall in love with music all over again. I thank a few fantastic guides along the journey... and just want to say how fantastic it feels to come home to a big part of who I really am ... who I always have been... and who I never want to forget, again.
15.8.06
Luscious Detroit
I'm in Detroit for work this week.
I'm exhausted, from everything life has thrown at me -- from everything I have thrown at life.
I miss my little girl.
I am thinking about the day when life returns to normal. Even if it's a new normal.
My hotel room smells like a basement. I am beginning to think I may end up regretting not bringing the Allegra... but who knew the hotel room was going to be moldy and musty? When are hotel rooms musty these days? I mean... it's not the Ritz, but it's not the Motel 6 either. Sheesh.
And I'm working on a bunch of overdue deadlines. Ew. I got myself into it, generally speaking... you know, life sometimes happens and you need to reprioritize. But I'm feeling a bit like I'm being punished for putting my family first... and that, frankly, ticks me off. Grr.
I'm so tired, but it's that tired that is so tired you don't sleep anyway.
And I miss Ireland, still. I want the Europe homesickness to be over... for heaven's sake, how can you be homesick for a place you have spent 10 days of your life in... when the other 20something years of your life, you have spent in *definitely not Europe*?
Blah. Once, in the game Apples to Apples, Luscious Detroit won. Because it seemed such a paradox. And that paradox couldn't be more true tonight, either.
I'm exhausted, from everything life has thrown at me -- from everything I have thrown at life.
I miss my little girl.
I am thinking about the day when life returns to normal. Even if it's a new normal.
My hotel room smells like a basement. I am beginning to think I may end up regretting not bringing the Allegra... but who knew the hotel room was going to be moldy and musty? When are hotel rooms musty these days? I mean... it's not the Ritz, but it's not the Motel 6 either. Sheesh.
And I'm working on a bunch of overdue deadlines. Ew. I got myself into it, generally speaking... you know, life sometimes happens and you need to reprioritize. But I'm feeling a bit like I'm being punished for putting my family first... and that, frankly, ticks me off. Grr.
I'm so tired, but it's that tired that is so tired you don't sleep anyway.
And I miss Ireland, still. I want the Europe homesickness to be over... for heaven's sake, how can you be homesick for a place you have spent 10 days of your life in... when the other 20something years of your life, you have spent in *definitely not Europe*?
Blah. Once, in the game Apples to Apples, Luscious Detroit won. Because it seemed such a paradox. And that paradox couldn't be more true tonight, either.
11.8.06
I may not be at the apex of mental health, but I have my moments...
When I don't even think about people who used to really hurt me.
Sometimes they don't even consume my brain.
And that's real nice. It's ugly to let go of something that isn't good for you, but at the same time, is better than nothing.
Funny thing is, I've learned there's a lot more "better than nothing" out there.
And sometimes, even nothing is fine.
Sometimes they don't even consume my brain.
And that's real nice. It's ugly to let go of something that isn't good for you, but at the same time, is better than nothing.
Funny thing is, I've learned there's a lot more "better than nothing" out there.
And sometimes, even nothing is fine.
10.8.06
are we there yet?
I have this vast sense of impatience at the moment.
Do you remember when you were a child, and you went on a road trip with your parent/parents/grandparents/etc?
You inherently crawled into a steel death-trap-on-wheels, which in all likelihood was unfortunately encased in woodgrain paneling. and, if you were REALLY cool, it was a station wagon; the kind with the seat that folded up in the back. It so didn't have air conditioning. And you were forced to sit in the back seat, on those crappy plastic-posing-as-leather-but-we-all-know-the-dirty-truth seats, which created an immediate, epoxy-like bond between your little tush and itself. And your sibling(s) alternately amused, annoyed, touched, poked, stuck to, and ripped the flesh off, you.
And you never could drive there fast enough.
And your mom/grandma/other benevolent and well-meaning adult said things like:
Let's play a game!
Who wants to sing a round?
Why don't you girls color instead?
Susie, you need to share that can of root beer.
Maybe it's time you kids all closed your eyes and just rested for a minute.
And then, you heard it. That noise dad/grandpa/person of authority (or assumed authority) in the driver's seat makes when they are just about done being hot and tired and have a headache from the road noise and the kid noise and are just about as disturbed about being glued to that plastic seat as you are.
It sounds kind of like a growl, and kind of like something very small and innocent dying.
There'd be that pregnant pause. Then, someone would chime in:
"Daaaaad! Margaret's on my side!"
And you'd get the silence. Or the head-whipping-around-to-the-back-seat, just for a second, glare. Or this:
"If I have to stop this car..." (fill in your favorite threat here.)
More pause. Someone would slap or poke or otherwise annoy someone else in the back seat.
And then you'd hear:
"Are we there yet?"
______________________
That is my whole life right now.
Do you remember when you were a child, and you went on a road trip with your parent/parents/grandparents/etc?
You inherently crawled into a steel death-trap-on-wheels, which in all likelihood was unfortunately encased in woodgrain paneling. and, if you were REALLY cool, it was a station wagon; the kind with the seat that folded up in the back. It so didn't have air conditioning. And you were forced to sit in the back seat, on those crappy plastic-posing-as-leather-but-we-all-know-the-dirty-truth seats, which created an immediate, epoxy-like bond between your little tush and itself. And your sibling(s) alternately amused, annoyed, touched, poked, stuck to, and ripped the flesh off, you.
And you never could drive there fast enough.
And your mom/grandma/other benevolent and well-meaning adult said things like:
Let's play a game!
Who wants to sing a round?
Why don't you girls color instead?
Susie, you need to share that can of root beer.
Maybe it's time you kids all closed your eyes and just rested for a minute.
And then, you heard it. That noise dad/grandpa/person of authority (or assumed authority) in the driver's seat makes when they are just about done being hot and tired and have a headache from the road noise and the kid noise and are just about as disturbed about being glued to that plastic seat as you are.
It sounds kind of like a growl, and kind of like something very small and innocent dying.
There'd be that pregnant pause. Then, someone would chime in:
"Daaaaad! Margaret's on my side!"
And you'd get the silence. Or the head-whipping-around-to-the-back-seat, just for a second, glare. Or this:
"If I have to stop this car..." (fill in your favorite threat here.)
More pause. Someone would slap or poke or otherwise annoy someone else in the back seat.
And then you'd hear:
"Are we there yet?"
______________________
That is my whole life right now.
4.8.06
change or die (from Fast Company)
This article from Fast Company was so fascinating to me. On 100 different levels, I'm all about embracing change -- and I sometimes struggle with people who cannot or do not as openly welcome it.
(and let's be honest, there are definitely times when all I want is a routine, and nothing to change for a very long time.)
I just think change is one of the biggest things we need to learn to navigate and make peace with in life... and it's all over.
(and let's be honest, there are definitely times when all I want is a routine, and nothing to change for a very long time.)
I just think change is one of the biggest things we need to learn to navigate and make peace with in life... and it's all over.
3.8.06
change
It's the season. My world is upside down, at the moment... and at a time when I'm trying to sort things out, and want to be expressive, I have to reserve myself and do much of my processing on the inside. I live outside of myself... I am one with my emotion and thought and no longer want to hide in the shadows and no longer want to cloak raw emotion. I am not ashamed. But in this chapter of my life, I am also wont to this rather unnatural internal processing, a dialogue that leaves me sleepless and philosophical.
Barbara sums some of this emotion up nicely with a Tracy Chapman song:
Barbara sums some of this emotion up nicely with a Tracy Chapman song:
Change
Saw the face of God and love
Would you change?
Would you change?
If you knew that love would break your heart
When you’re down so far
That you could not fall
Would you change?
Would you change?
How bad, how good does it need to get?
How many losses, how much regret?
What chain reaction would
Cause an effect?
Makes you turn around
Makes you try to explain
Makes you forgive and forget
Makes you change
Makes you change
If you knew that you would be alone
Knowing right
Being Wrong
Would you change?
Would you change?
If you knew that you would find a truth
That has a pain that can’t be soothed
Would you change?
Would you change?
How bad, how good does it need to get?
How many losses, how much regret?
What chain reaction would
Cause an effect?
Makes your life unbearable
Would you change?
Would you change?
Hard times come and bring you down
Would you change?
Would you change?
If you knew that you would die today
Saw the face of God and love
Would you change?
Would you change?
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