The 30th

Finally. I did not fully succeed but given everything I am please with my attempt. Hop you were happy with whatever you attempted to accomplish this month.

I am officially done with everything except my final paper for Social Welfare Policy. If I manage a B- in this class I will be satisfied. Not pleased, but happy to have it done.

Macro I, I have done all that I think I can do, except a few more comments on my colleagues postings. The assignments that get reworked into the final paper? Yeah, I'm behind. I will draft the assignments, submit them and without feedback will write the final.

Tomorrow I will get my third paper back from my Micro I professor, and I am cautiously hopeful. The final paper may kill me however.

Playing major catch up in Human Development and Behavior I. Still have module postings to do, a much delayed mid-term and the final.

Yeah the next 9 days will be hell.

I would love to say I will keep blogging through all this but just case a heavy dose of reality sinks in, see you on the other side of the semester!

simple things

(Yes, yes, I realized late last night, about 12:40am that I lost track of posting yesterday. Ah well. It's my fifth year doing this and the first where I missed days. I suppose with all that's on my plate it is to be expected).

Late Saturday The Music Nerd (trying on a nickname for my sweetheart, we'll see if it sticks) and I were driving home after an all day meeting in Cambridge that we attended. I was asked about my favorite movies of the holiday season. Rudolph is undoubtedly a top favorite, as is The Grinch. The Year without A Santa Claus is another, the songs crack me up. I also spoke about watching the Nutcracker Suite every year, not that I remember which company performed it, or if it were the same production aired year after year. Then I recalled how once a year The Wizard of Oz would be on television. It seemed to me that it was on every November, though I don't have any clear recollection, not really.

Sunday I woke sullen, cranky, and unmotivated. I gave fair warning to the Music Nerd, who was gracious about it, asking if there were anything to help. "No," I replied flatly. Being faced with such a sweet inquiry, and those gorgeous, kind eyes, I started blabbering about all the things that were overwhelming me: I have so much school work to due; terrified I won't pull it off, that I will freeze like the last time I attempted grad school; my house is a mess - needs a true cleaning; I've gained a bit of weight; behind on DNE work, and basically I blathered on about my fears, anxiety, generally bitching about my life.

As I attempted to settle in to accomplish some of the mountain of schoolwork, suddenly the television was on, a movie was starting. Without me noticing, Music Nerd had popped in a dvd - The Wizard of Oz. The smile that came over was so big, my heart lifted with the sweet gesture. Music Nerd was surprised at my response. This is at least the second time that MN has done the exact perfect thing to attempt to remedy me when I have been at some of my worst.

Simple things, thoughtful gestures, makes life so much better.

it's late

But I'm here.
Now I'm going to bed.

Anxious melancholy

The title sums up the feelings that keep sliding over me, or rather creeping around my innards, leaving feeling like something is terribly wrong. It resembles the impending doom feelings that were regular visitors before I discovered happy pills. I am not without my drugs of choice so I am at a loss to explain why this keeps settling over me. It could be that I am coming to the end of my semester and the stress is getting to me. Perhaps that is all, not that that is minor but it could be reasonable; which is perferable to truly something being wrong, or that my feelings of things being about to implode is true. Even if it quite reasonable and explainable, it still nerve wracking and leaves spending a portion of everyday waiting for the other shoe to drop. I do hope this stops easily, on its own, and soon,

*Please excuse typos and brevity, composed on my phone.

Anxious melancholy

The title sums up the feelings that keep sliding over me, or rather creeping around my innards, leaving feeling like something is terribly wrong. It resembles the impending doom feelings that were regular visitors before I discovered happy pills. I am not without my drugs of choice so I am at a loss to explain why this keeps settling over me. It could be that I am coming to the end of my semester and the stress is getting to me. Perhaps that is all, not that that is minor but it could be reasonable; which is perferable to truly something being wrong, or that my feelings of things being about to implode is true. Even if it quite reasonable and explainable, it still nerve wracking and leaves spending a portion of everyday waiting for the other shoe to drop. I do hope this stops easily, on its own, and soon,

*Please excuse typos and brevity, composed on my phone.

Another favorite

Fifteen years from tonight you have to make a desicion
The greatest love of your life
Is gonna call during dinner...
From the home of the girl that he's living with now
And the guilt he'll say is killing him
He's wilted in the middle and
He knows how bad he acted
Knows he can't have you back
But the fact is he can't be happy when you're angry
And you're so angry, he says you stayed so mad
And he heard it on the street that
You moved back in with your dad
You were drinking something awful
And that makes him sad
Then he says it's good to hear your voice again
And that it's hard to ask it,
But he's calling with a question
He's been working real hard, he's trying to make a new start
An honest to god fresh beginning
So maybe you could try to finally find it in your heart
To forgive him

You've already been here before
You already know where it goes
You chose this, you know it's suppose to be over
You've been here before
You already know where it goes
You chose this, you know it's suppose to be over

He hung up the phone, you listened to the dial tone
And you stared at the stove until the beeping started
You read some love letters some threats
And some you couldn't tell apart
That you keep under the bed at the apartment
And then you did what he asked you to do
You opened your heart up
Right there on a napkin on the carpet
And part of it was frostbit
But you've always been a smart kid
Could still distinguish, the blood black as pitch
Valves had gone stiff, veins and scar tissue
Four chambers just a standard issue
But none had room, forgiveness is huge
And you had two full of ice water
One fulla salt, one packed with coal
Eager and ready and willing to find fault

You've already been here before
You already know where it goes
You chose this, you know it's suppose to be over
You've been here before
You already know where it goes
You chose this, you know it's suppose to be over

Then with your heart in your lap
And your head in your hands, suddenly you had a plan
Wrap the mess in newspaper
Headed west on Hennepin,
Heavy with a huge favor for a kid that just turned ten
A flat-chested, gap-toothed girl
Was the best that I've been so far
And now I'm too big to forgive him
I need just a moment with me,
A moment when I was still little
I used to sing on the roof outside my windowsill
And I came hoping some ghost of me would be here still
And here you are, stick figure and a busted grin
Still ignorant of all the trouble I'ma get us in
Hoping we could trade, just for tonight
Like I could borrow your heart
And I could leave you mine
It's not much for collateral, tattered and battle-scared
But I can promise you solemn
That I will be back for it tomorrow
I only need yours this evening
So I can call an old friend
And I can tell him
That we're finally even,
That we're finally even

You chose this, you know it's suppose to be over
I've been here before
And I already know where it goes
You chose this, you know it's suppose to be over

Thankful is a good

and that I am.

For many things:

friends

family

community

grace

that I am healthy, relatively ;-)

education

dance

music

my sweetheart

my cabin and it's owners' grace for letting me stay there

a yummy dinner tonight

meeting new people

a never ending supply of books I want to read

the smell of wood smoke

So many things, I am sure I am forgetting many important things but I think this is a good list for now.

My holiday bird is a phoenix

Once again I am doing something different, unfamiliar for a "holiday". Here am I again wandering into someone else's structure, secret language of their family. I seem to have yet to create my own rituals around most holidays, and the ones I have invented seems more like phoenixes, burning up in my past being reborn into still new plumage.

Perhaps that is my tradition, to reinvent, recreate, blend what is known with what is new year time about me, about my life. There was a time when I could not imagine ever not going to my family Thanksgiving, I did choose not to go from to time over the years. Sometime because I went else, or I lived too far away. With various partners I have attempted to start something but when relationships end, the attempts to create those familial habits turn to a pile of ashes of things that have passed on.

My pattern, when alone, is to try on other families' customs but unlike Goldilocks none of them are just right. Oh, they sometimes feel that way, especially when it's been my lover's family. In reality, though I dearly enjoy my far and few between family gatherings, my family is not really close - only gathering twice a year for most of life, and those gatherings have shrunk as died and reformation by marriages have thinned the branches even further. Stepping into others' families have always been filled with hope and dread. I long for an extended family that thrills, annoys, and loves one another; one where we gather for no reason, randomly and share little bits, hide others, but there is always laughter. When I have had a glimpse into that possibility I then fight the urge to run away; it's too close, too much expectation. The annoyance and obligation overshadow the warmth and I am left feeling claustrophobic. There really is no pleasing me in this arena, I know that but yet I search, hope, and wonder when my turn comes to have that family that meets my hopes and dreams. It won't happen, at least not with perfection, and certainly not without me taking an active part in the annoyance, laughter, and warmth.

This is related to my recent whinging about being single, about never having that happy ever after. How does one create that "family" if one is single? Who makes up the members? Surely I have enough friends to create my own ragtag crew ala Charlie Brown, but there will be no grandmother to scoop us all up in breast of kin that are the grown ups who provide. I am that grown up now, but who and where is my tribe? I remain a nomad, regardless of living in one place for over a year, I roam on more esoteric planes all the time it seems; constantly seeking something that may not be findable, so perhaps I should enjoy the journey more. Maybe some of us are not meant to hold rituals in the same manner that others do. Perhaps I am more of a catalyst than a stable solution; jumping into things and seeing what happens; what to take onward with me, and what to leave behind for others to amalgamate for themselves.

Is there a formula to this?

Driving this morning I was reflecting on my relationship and noted that when I fell in love, it has not played out well for me. The first time I truly fell in love I was in my early 20's, it was a disaster - she was immature, insecure, abusive, manipulative. One year in, I had tried to leave but after hours of weeping, apologies, and pleading, along with a sprinkle of feeling responsible for her being New York City where she was like a lost sheep, I gave in. The more time that passed, the harder it was to know how to extricate myself from the crazy cycle of our life. The tipping point seemed to appear out of nowhere, which of course is never quite the case, and suddenly I knew that no matter what the price (and it was very high) I had to get out to save myself.When I left it felt great but I felt enormous pain; pain that left feeling like I wanted to die; I did not really want to die, but I wanted the raging, stabbing sensations to stop.

Before and after that roller coaster ride I was in relationships that were much calmer, and I wondered if it is was because I hadn't "fallen", wondered if I would again. And if I did, could I survive it. But then again, I fell deeply, irrationally for someone. Before even meeting her in person I felt attached, even addicted to this person. It was a ridiculous fall, all the more since it turned out that almost everything she said was a lie. Again I was relieved when it was over, felt worlds better, and it hurt, not as bad as before, but there was sadness. There were little things I missed, much I did not, but there was this emptiness as I was single for the first time in eons, briefly.

The next one I thought was more reasonable, but only because I was not the one who fell first. This one I thought had real potential, it all seemed so sane, especially by comparison. She was not insane like some others but that being swept up thing? Clearly that is my downfall, my Achilles heel. I should know that when I feel that swirling, too hopeful feeling that it is bad news.

What I also noticed in my reverie this morning is that I seem to choose best when it starts slower, perhaps knowing them as part of my social circle first. It might serve me well to keep this in mind for the future. Things are lovely with the person I'm seeing and they fit more in this category which after the review I conducted of my romantic history should be a good sign but the moment I start having faith in someone, my magic thinking leads me to expect the happy times to end.

Yeah, I have might still have some issues to work on.

Like sands through the hourglass.

Checking the television guide tonight I noted, once again, what shows I no longer watch. There are many shows that I associate with Her Geekyness (who I left some time ago) which are no longer part of my regular viewing. There were a few I avoided initially because it was too hard to watch them, knowing the shows had been part of my day to day life that no longer existed. There were some that were always more her thing, those were easier to let go of, but the others were more mixed. Since that time, I have not had a pattern of watching tv with someone. Actually since leaving Dayton, my television watching patterns have shifted. Initially I stayed with someone who did not have any signal and certainly no cable; often I crashed with Greg and Janet, who have digital signal or whatever it's called, but no cable. Sure we rented movies during some of those visits, but again folks who do not use television the way I had (or Her Geekyness). I learned how to cope without depending on tv as much.

It's been rather freeing to have little idea what the new shows are, to happen upon things, and only really know some of the syndicated things (they are much easier to remember since the schedule is the same five days a week). Vastly different from how I lived much of my life. Even now I watch more than those early gypsy days but I often am doing other things and can barely tell you watch I'm watching let alone the plot. I even shut it off! Seriously. Though this more normal, it still feels so odd.

So no more forensic shows (mostly I'm good to have stopped watching them, but I did get used to what she used to "the voice", there truly was something soothing about the sound of his voice, though the subject matter was not the best to fall asleep to - her habit. Very little CSI, The Closer. I do miss the original CSI but tend to forget to watch the reruns, and did not care for Laurence Fishburne on the show - a supreme disappointed because I had high expectations for his performance (I have caught bits and pieces of Ted Danson and have been pleasantly surprised by the character and performance). It's hard to remember what else I have "given up". I am still happy to catch Charmed repeats however, whenever the day allows and I remember it's on. As time moves on I remember less and less of what I have stopped watching, or forgetting more and more to connect them to her, hard to tell which. It's not about missing her, it hasn't been for a long time, more of a like a far away memory, of what my life used to be; one I don't miss in very many ways. The life I'm living now is much better.

A quiet day

Nothing good, nothing bad, just eh. You know, a "meh" kinda of day. Did not get much accomplished, except for some work that needs to be shipped tomorrow. Way too much time reading a compelling thread on Ravelry, almost caught up. Beautiful day but I did not take advantage. It does seem that the day after a productive one, the next gets little attention in terms of the "to do" list. I wish I could be more consistent. More things to work on in the future.

Perhaps tomorrow I will be more pithy. Thanks for tuning in.

Ah, to be brilliant

But I'm not. At least I'm not feeling it right now. Cannot think of a blessed thing to write about. I was going to post photos I took today but am having difficulty getting them off my camera. Argh. Technology is a pain in the arse sometimes.

Overall not a bad day, it included a nap, a shower, laundry, and an awesome fire which has keep the downstairs at about 75F all day.

Finished one extremely overdue assignment, am working on another. Might finished it tonight, or tomorrow. In either case, more things to cross off the to do list feels good.

In which our heroine discovers her minions are missing

So yesterday I hauled work back with me that is still in the car. There's coat in there from, um a week ago? A wrap from sometime this week. My travel mug which hasn't had coffee in it for at least two weeks. Oh, damn let's be honest probably more like three. A coffee cup from that place I'm ashamed to say I go to from time to time - it's been there a week as of today. Old mail, I think. Parking tickets that need paying. Lots of other flotsam and jetsam of living half out of my car at least 3 days a week.

Then today I went to Sunny's. And now the car is really full. As in seeing out the back window a bit of an obstacle course. What was added was:

• a beautiful pasta serving bowl
• two sets of flannel sets (yeah!)
• a laptop cooler pad thingy
• an air purifier
• a portable dvd player, complete with car charge, two pouches, and various cords to plug it into the wall, a computer, or tv.
• my little bookcase, which I think will go upstairs next the couch
• all the yarn that was in said bookcase: 10 balls of some purple wool, 10 balls of some black wool, 3 skeins of vintage 3ply yarn which could make a nice throw, two skiens of some Lambswool in cool colors, a small cone of beautiful peacock colored lace weight yarn, and probably a couple of others.
• a necklace that I thought was lost but I found it but it needs repair. It make me totally happy to find it, I was just mourning it's loss the other day

On the way home I stopped at the grocery store for a few items that I needed (i.e. ice cream and cookies to get me through a weekend of cramming on school work). Once home it was cold out, a fire needed to be started, the cat at the main house needed to be fed, and it 's kitchen tidied. Let's just I'm lucky the things that needed to be in freezer got of the car. Tomorrow, unless the forest trolls have done their job, and given their performance of late - the odds are against this, I will be spending time unpacking the car, stacking wood, vacuuming, and doing laundry. All this and school work too. Perhaps the fairies will at least have made the coffee.

Bittersweet

I work for a lovely couple, assisting with their business which she founded and he supports her in her mission, serving as her right hand man. Aisling and Kent have been together a number of years, marrying two years ago. They share a home, dogs, friends, and families. There is a comfort surrounding their relationship, that leaves longing for what I do not have, haven't for a long time, and wonder if I will find again. Their home is well tended, the furniture tasteful and comfortable, they adore their dogs as though there were their children and in a way they are - something I understand. I realize I have only seen the tiniest slice of their life and my envy is based on impressions, my lack, and not reality.

Living alone has suited me well, very well for the last year and a half; I have learned a great deal about myself, and it is lovely to only have myself to account regarding my choices, my spendings, and my grocery shopping. Still there are times when I miss partnership in the everyday, the glow and glide of couplehood. There are not great periods of this desire seeping at the edges of my being, but they happen, like today.

Aisling and Kent had left for a trip of approximately three weeks and I was still at the house finishing some work. Kent called shortly after leaving, as I expected because I was sure there was something left behind. He had left his wedding ring by the kitchen sink and really didn't want to be without it. As we spoke I walked over to the sink and retrieved the ring, slipping it around in my hand, noting it's simplicity and size - it would fit on the middle finger of my larger hand. While playing with it, I recalled feeling that way about my wedding band, which has been off my hand since 2005. I have not been single all that time but no bands with the weight of commitment, purpose, and promise have encircled my finger since then.

My desires in these moments fights with my cynicism - relationships don't last. Or at least mine don't. It's not that I have only flitting partnerships, but apparently I lack that gene for sticking things out. Perhaps that gene is related to my cynicism - they are mutually exclusive, if I have one, I can't have the other. Only one time did I have any true faith that a relationship would last, which it did for twelve years but in the end I still left. Regretfully in many ways, but it was the right decision for me at the time. In the years that have swirled by it does seem that in some ways I left the best thing I've had. But somehow it still wasn't good enough for me. The truth is that there were things missing, some incompatibility concerns that time have not erased but have left me wondering - at what point are things like that still good enough to stay? How do you know when you should stay in spite of those mismatches?

Perhaps the reason I laden such loveliness on relationships like Aisling and Kent's is that I keep hoping I if I can learn the secret of couples like them, I will be able cure myself of my lack of faith. If I can find inner peace that will lead to acceptance not just of my imperfections about another's, I would be allowed me the domestic, marital bliss that has alluded me, and I would finally believe I deserve such riches.

I will be shipping it tomorrow.

A Good Day

It doesn't take much sometimes to feel like a day feel successful.

- I was able to sleep in, and felt relatively rested upon waking

- An excellent cup of tea

- Lovely trip to my acupuncturist (despite being offered a choice of a no sugar/no alcohol diet or herb, I chose the herbs)

- Finished a paper for Micro Practice class before midnight, meaning I can get to bed at a reasonable hour

- Receive a "B" on my module posting for Social Welfare Policy

- My home is warm and toasty on gray rainy day

- A glass or two of a lovely red wine (see why I chose the herbs?)

How was your day?

"Aargh" says Charlie Brown

While reading in bed last night, at precisely 12:01am, it suddenly occurred to me that I had not blogged. I confess, I was tempted to leap out of bed and back date the posting. But alas, I am too honorable.

So here I am hanging my head in shame, four stellar years of not missing a post, the record has been broken. If it was going to happen I cannot think of a more appropriate year than this one. Lyme has been kicking my arse for over two months, finally seeming to abate just a week ago, graduate school has been kicking my arse for over two months - partially because of Lyme. My internship is not quite doing a number on me, but it's a contributing factor as well. So are my two very part time jobs, my reduced commitment to the Frolic (I'm very sad to not be doing a better job), and my responsibilities to Dance New England (also falling down a bit there as well). Perhaps even attempting NaBloPoMo this year was a foolish idea but I really thought I could do it. I still think I can, so I am resuming my intention of posting daily for the rest of month.

Wish me luck, I think I'm going to need it!

Another great day in Western Massachusetts

It was lovely to sleep in, the fourth day in a row that I did not have a specific time I had to get up - what a luxury.

Had lovely little bit of time with Michele before I took off to pick up my sweetheart up in Greenfield. We decided on a side trip to the Montague Bookmill - it's been YEARS since I was there. It is lovely to see that this place has survived, and thrived all these years. I had a lovely warm rice salad at their Lady Killigrew cafe; it was so yummy. The sunset was blazing with pinks and reds, incredible.

Now we are home, the stove is cranking, and we've had dinner, some yummy lemon shortbread and chocolate for dessert. Schoolwork is calling me but I am enjoying the stupor of a nice weekend, a full belly, and a goal of serious cuddling soon.

Lovely Saturday

A day in Northampton.

A real shower, not a cubical pretending to be one.

Lovely vegan breakfast and coffee at Haymarket - god I love this place.

Nice visit to the Forbes Library for study time.

Awesome catch time with Michele, then dinner at a fabulous new (to me and her)

restaurant in Florence, Side Street Cafe. Food was so good, and I loved the

waiter - I want him to be my waiter every where.

Now more chatting with Michele, both of sprawled on her bed, it's like when

we were housemates, but in some ways better. More history between, we've had

some challenging times, some rifts, but we have grown and grown back together.

It's like being home, in more ways than one.

Making good decisions

Today, in a fit of maturity, I decided to not attend an intriguing sounding workshop (using mindfulness and yoga in treating depression and anxiety) nor a one day conference (on feminism) - both coming up in a week. As much as I would love to attend either, or ideally both, I have no time to do anything except what is necessary for school, work, and daily survival.

Perhaps I'm getting better at setting priorities, at least a little. There seems to be some improvement in this area, which is good as it should get me through school. On one hand I keep focusing on getting through this semester and I expect that that will continue to be the mantra for each one. Recently Greg pointed out that in a year and a half I would be setting up a practice, actually working in my field. I shuddered and said more like two years in a fit of fear and wanting to put off the reality of next steps. But then I recovered and realized that yes, what he said was true, scary, and terribly exciting. Making good decisions is what will get me there. Learning to fight my internal demons that let me feel like I'm a fraud, that my good grades are not valid and my less than stellar ones given to professors who see through my facade of being capable of this work, will also work to get me to where I want to be.

Which leads me back to there is so much to do, work on school, on me but it's all for the good.

One month to go

Until the end of the semester and the list of work to do by then is staggering. Truly. However I am so looking forward to the time off from classes. It's hard to believe how the time has flown by. Of course having Lyme since before classes began probably accounts for how behind I am.

One goal for my time off is to do a jigsaw puzzle. Yeah I know big excitement but it will make me happy. What else? Knitting. Reading some of the articles and such that I didn't get to during the semester. Um. Cooking! The benevolent landowner is going to Germany for a few weeks I will have access to a stove and oven. So exciting. I should pick out some things to make. Sleeping in everyday I can, except for my internship days - that will be thrilling.

And perhaps I will blog even after NaBloPoMo is over. Anything is possible, right?

Rest in Peace Heavy D

Children's Work

This is Dessa's song that first got my attention. It resonated so stronger for me. The lyrics are great but listening it, even better hearing her intonation, the arrangement.

I get something different each time I listen to her cd - A Broken Code. I highly recommend her, her songs, her writings. Everything

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gSxSCv7Cegc)

My father was a paper plane, my mother was a windswept plane*
My little brother is nearly twice my age, he taught me how to meditate, I taught him how to read.
I grew up with a book in my hand, I got these dark circles before I turned ten.
Heard my mother with her friends worry it was something she did, to get such a serious kid.

But I've learned how to paint my face,
How to earn my keep
How to clean my kill.
Some nights i still cant sleep,
The past rolls back, I can see us still.
You've learned how to hold your own,
How to stack your stones,
But the history's thick.
Children aren't as simple as we might think.

Before you came along i was a lone cub,
Fell in love with language, tried to tell the grown-ups
About the storm clouds, the weather in my head,
Hadn't heard the word for melancholy yet.
Then you came in five years behind,
We thought you couldn't talk, turns out you were just shy.
Mom said it was serious, dad said you'd be fine.
I thought you were the prophet of 1989.
You were so tender, we thought something was wrong with you.
So patient, we thought that you were deaf,
you were so solemn, so tiny but so ancient.
Ma took you to see doctors, you scared her half to death.
And I made you a library of tiny books with spines 2 inches high.
You didn't say too much,
But your smile taught me how to quiet down my mind.

But I've learned how to paint my face,
How to earn my keep
How to clean my kill.
Some nights I still can't sleep,
The past rolls back, I can see us still.
You've learned how to hold your own,
How to stack your stones,
But the history's thick.
Children aren't as simple,
As we'd like to think.

You slept in my bed, and if I kept quiet
I could hear all the voices in your head.

When the wagon tipped,
I prayed over your body, I asked God to take the damage out on me.
10 years later he finally gets the memo, sent it to accounting,
and knocked out my front teeth.
But you came to, and took my hand,and held my eyes and...
Me and you, had a long walk home, so we decided not to cry.
Now we've got a grown up love,
And I know that's how its supposed to be.
Same old story, mom gets Easters, lets dad have Christmas Eve.
But I won't pretend I don't remember,
How unusual they were,
The little mystic and his handler.
All some children do is work.
I've learned how to paint my face,
How to earn my keep
How to clean my kill.
Some nights I still cant sleep,
The past rolls back, I can see us still.

Some days

Some days, it is about the small victories. Other days, it is about just slogging through. Still others, it is muddling through hoping the apple cart didn't turn over.

I'm not sure that today was exactly any of those days, not entirely. There was a small victory (booking a speaker for the elders I work with). There was some slogging through (hello, school work), and a bit of muddling (isn't that most days?). Oh, and some huge frustration with bureaucracy, not sure what that category would be, but today was that too. Even in all that fog of happy, slog, muddling and frustration there were slivers of joy.

In the upstairs of the cabin there is a huge window over the desk, standard height but about 5 feet wide with a view of trees and not much else, that faces west. There is a bit of what we call "lawn" where I have seen deer and woodchucks grazing and can catch a glimpse of the main house if my eyes veer left a bit but mostly trees with just a bit of sky above. The clocks were set back this weekend and my judgement of time is a bit askew and I can't tell if it's later than I think, or earlier, or darker than it should be. Tonight at a bit past 5pm the sun was setting, lighting up the sky with pinks, bronzes, and casting elegant shadows below. With more of the leaves off than on the trees and the conifers losing needles those pockets of light have shifted to allow more contrast of the almost black of branches which the sky peeks through with it's quickly changing rainbow display. This view from the window never fails to offer me a slice of joy, any time of day, any weather, any season.

The other day my beloved brought me curtains to help curtail the blinding light of the late afternoon, but today while I was at work had artfully tacked it up to allow the view to still be available. Sitting at my desk, working on a reading assignment (Pinderhughes's 2000 article in the Journal of Family Psychology on Discipline, if you must know), after being at my internship (it's going well, thank you for asking), I enjoyed the curtain engineering and the briskly shifting light show that my window offers me daily, if I just pay attention.

Perhaps that's what every day brings, the chance to be mindful, to take in the simple things that we know will lighten our souls, if only we remember to do that small task. There are things each day that if we really see them, breathe them, hear them, we can find the path to a moment of happiness each day. This is not something I do consciously every day, but often. I suspect I do it unconsciously some days as well, how much more joy I could have in my life if I was mindful about it every single day? Can one overdose on joy? I suppose a way to find out is to be more purposeful about a simple thing like the view from my window.

Never on a Sunday

Never on a Sunday

do I find myself rushing for Monday

will a rainy day not be perfect for cuddling

does a breakfast out seem wrong or indulgent

will I resist the temptation of too much tv

does a long bath sound like a bad idea

nor does sitting for hours with a friend

should I forget that the hours change, the light shifts

and every day is a gift.

oops!

Meant to write earlier but now I'm at the Frolic, so I am "phoning it in". More tomorrow. Have a great night peeps. Don't forgetto set your clocks back an hour!

Happy birthday to my siblings

Today is my siblings birthday, yes plural, they are twins. I can still remember the flurry of activity surrounding the birth, though I am sure that there are details that have been lost, as well as many I never knew about.

My stepmother went into labor on Sunday the 3rd, after attending a party the night before. Sometime that day I was shuttled across the street to stay with my friend Eileen, who lived on the fourth floor of a brownstone with her blind mother and father. Her mother's sister lived with her husband, and two children on the second floor; their mother on the ground floor - she always wore black as all the good Italian widows did in our neighborhood. I was there because my mother had left our household less than a month before, unexpectedly, and was living in California.

After spending the night, I readied for school at the neighbor's but realized I had forgotten my gym clothes (I hated gym) so I dashed across the street. I have no idea what made me enter the parental bedroom during this trip, perhaps I heard a sound, but I was stunned to find my mother in the bed. I have no recollection of asking her anything but I suspect I did and the response was probably that she came home for the birth. Confused I made my way to school.

Coming home there was no one home and I headed back to my friend's apartment. At some point my father called there, and I eagerly waited to hear if I had a brother or a sister. The response was "It's a them!". I had one of each, and once again that day I was stunned, surprised and unsure what to say next.

My recollections are a bit fuzzy but I think they came home when they were five days old. The image that has remained in my mind all these years remains true. Fran sitting in the rocker nursing my brother, my sister in the single crib (did I mention we were not expecting two babies?) wearing a light blue one piece sleeper looking so tiny, so breakable. Standing motionless in front of the crib Fran told me to pick her up. I reached up and into the crib a bit terrified and awkwardly scooped her into my skinny arms hardly breathing for fear of dropping her. She seemed so tiny, so soft, and I felt nothing but love for these tiny beings. That feeling has never changed.

The next time I saw my mother was in late January when she came home to us and we became a house of six for a time.

Documentaries you should think about viewing

Recently in my Micro Practice class we have watched some videos that have really touched me.

First was Raising Cain, http://www.pbs.org/opb/raisingcain/ which was a great look at boys in this culture. Certainly it left me with the desire to read more of Michael Thompson's work and food for thought about stereotypes that reside in my head. An intro can be viewed here, but it does not begin to convey how deep, how disturbing some of the stories of these young men are. Heartbreaking.

Today was an emotionally draining day in class as we watched two videos, one of which I had seen in my last go round of grad school. The Color of Fear triggered intense emotions and tears this time as well. One difference this time is that I have since become friends with one of the men. This scene particularly stands out both times, strongly.

As if that wasn't intense enough my professor followed The Color of Fear (which I still feel everyone should watch) with Big Mama. No, not the one y'all are thinking of, not Big Mama's House. This documentary had most of the class in tears. It follows the story of an 89 year old woman with custody of her 9 year old grandson and their journey towards foster care for the young man who has developmental and behavior difficulties.

Happily as class was breaking up I checked my phone and had received a lovely message from my sweetheart which took the emotion edge off a bit.

Two for Tuesday

Yes there will be shortcuts to make it through NaBloPoMo this time around, more than ever!

Two recent favorite moments:

Last week, while at my internship, a lovely 83 year old woman whose mouth was tucked into itself because she hadn't put her teeth in, gently reached up to point to my nose and said: "I like your nose earring". Such a sweet moment.

In a moment of clarity I realized that I could move the drying rack from the left to the right side above the sink. It totally opened up the appearance of lightness in the kitchen area. Small changes can make one so happy.

Because clearly I'm insane

This will be my fifth time doing this. This is the second time I have done it while also doing a butt load of school work. However this time I am taking four courses, spending about two days at my internship, mentoring two new CCG members for DNE, and attempting something related to being the PR person for the Frolic. And you, know sleeping. Oh, and I'm on the recover road from Lyme.

Did I mention I'm insane? No? Oh.