can't sleep...

i heart the hipstamatic app; i just do.

God,

grant me

the serenity

to accept

the things

I cannot change,

the courage

to change

the things

I can,

and the

wisdom

to know

the difference...

Today, I am thankful for many things, including:

-A four day week!

-And a field trip to the Aquarium.

-A fun time at Hippie church (aka unitarianism); I'm helping with the kids' class. Most notably, there was this string trio- a (kickass) violinist, a guitar player, and this guy who rocked out the mandolin! They also performed the song Blackbird, which has special meaning to me right now, given where I am with things.

-Friends. Friends who talk me through my own dramas- I used to keep most of my dramas to myself, or maybe talk about it, but only once my mind was already made up. These days, it's more of a "come as you are" kind of vibe- much better. I'm coming with my discomforts and my sometimes self-induced drama. "This is just how it feels to be vulnerable," says friend Elizabeth, handing me a comfort Frappaccino. Other friends, who are patiently waiting for me to be ready to share more about what could look like my life crashing down around me, or like the opportunity of a lifetime- depending on where one is standing...Friends at Cafe Brazil for brunch. Friends with drinks. Friends with elotes. :)

-Internet Friends. Margaret and I seem to be going through divorce together, something I'm sure neither of us imagined so many years ago when we met on here, each mostly focused on fitness, each with our boyfriends. We have been blogging buddies for something like 7 years, I think, along with Mia and Lauren. It's amazing how you can meet real friends like this- I did not anticipate it. I mean, for real! Mia and I are talking about working on a teaching project together this year, long distance between here and the Bay Area where she lives. Also, I strongly suspect that Margaret and Lauren and I will all meet up this summer; this has been in discussion for a bit, now. Regarding divorce, I should add that divorce is more of a symptom in the case of B and I- a positive symptom, believe it or not- of a new kind of life in which feelings are really and regularly felt and chances are taken, etc., etc. So, I'm not "going through" divorce as much as I'm "going through" withdrawal from thinking I had everything figured out when I actually had lots of blank spots.

-Pema Chodron's audio book, "When Things Fall Apart." This would be great for people with addictions; she goes very deeply into the concept of just sitting with discomfort, loneliness- refraining from trying to make the discomfort go away. It is an uncomfortable practice, but incredibly strengthening. It really helps me sit with my fears, and I find that when I lean into my fears, really feel them, they pass through me and go away. I have more of a sense of being able to handle much more than I felt I could handle before.

-My camera is FINALLY fixed. It was sadly easy to fix.

-I remembered to take my trash can to the curb for tomorrow.

-I finally fell into a little...depression? for a bit...And, then out of it, thank God. Nothing like dispair. I would describe it as grayness, listlessness, and a heightened sense of anxiety. I started to just feel paralyzed- I had tried to hard to build a "problem-proof" life, only to find that the goal in itself meant I had some pretty serious problems! I fell into this place in which I wasn't sure what directions to move ON ANYTHING without making huge mistakes again, and I just didn't want to move at all. I realized, "I still don't know how to do this, necessarily." I guess the big lesson there was to stop trying to be perfect, and just be where I am. It's human. It's messy. I still like me- some people seem to like me more. Some don't love it so much. Now, instead of assuming that no one will stick around if I go through pain in the ass times or have needs, I'm just making the mistakes that reflect what it's like to start something new; and I get to really know who sticks around for that, instead of the subtle manipulations we can sometimes to do ensure we are "loved." I'm believing more in people. It feels good. Less lonely.

-Realizing that really helped me rededicate myself to extreme self-care. I'm usually pretty good about this anyways, juicing and exercising and such; but, I had fallen off a bit- and now, I'm back on for reals.

-So, I'm kind of "broken open," knowing nothing; but, I am usually feeling liberated by this.

-I had the best yoga session tonight. The energy in the room was amazing. A girl next to me brought her baby, probably about 6 or 8 months. She was crawling all over me during a couple of poses! It was beyond cute- I'm so glad it happened! Little kids can really remind us of the nature of the universe...meant to be silly, mostly worry-free, fun, laughing and falling down and making funny faces at people you don't know.

-This is kind of weird, but I've been going to a 12 step program: Alanon. Wow. This is a special kind of vulnerability, because you are in this room with people just like you, talking about shit you usually don't say- and it's not like a therapist that you pay. Something about the money really changes things, somehow- it saves you from the vulnerable parts a bit. In general, I've done my due diligence in life to be sure that I'm rarely vulnerable to anyone at all- to a truly shocking degree (which is why I'm rambling on about it now...). I can see clearly that this is a huge part of my current path- to find the point of vulnerability and to sit with it. Again. Again. To be loved. To love. To be let down. To see that I'm ok anyways.

-I'm working really hard at just having fun-- I got really serious at some point as a kid, and I stopped being child-like very, very early. This week, I've thought a lot about how it's time to go back and reclaim those years, and just relax and have a great time. Be silly. Be ok. Be spontaneous. Learn something new. I have some things coming up that are kind of fun/scary...

-Getting my house together more, bit by bit. I think I mentioned that B and I had never really unpacked-- if that couldn't have been a clue! I bought a desk last week for my office (to be), and I think I'll probably get around to assembling it this week. I'm grateful for this house- it fits me so well. I love it. I'm not sure if I'll ever want to live with someone again- who knows.

i don't know much, but...

I know I like this: A little tea pot from a little person I teach.

And...

I know I like this. The Fools have taken to lining up by height when I come home. I asked them to try it by birthday, but they just looked at me.

And for this moment, that's about all I know. Guess that's all we really know anyways; but, man, I'm really feeling that for once. Surrender.

How to peel an onion.

Ah, the layers.

In front of me is maybe an inch of visibility- not a whole step- only enough to see that I am probably safe from death or disaster for at least the evening- or maybe until lunch time. Where I am, it is as dark as the Blackbird’s black night.

Today, my thoughts are as empty as blackness. You know that moment in the movies after the bomb has exploded- that strange kind of silence? That is something like the emptiness that I am hearing. There is a ring to it. It is quiet and loud at the same time. It is the panic of the unknown. It is the peace of inevitability.

I’ve tried to control so much; I thought I could do it. Not other people, but the outcome of my own life. The avoidance of pain. Of let down. Of disaster. Sure, the core of control, like that of an onion, is mythical; yet, knowing that makes it no less terrifying to let go of all that I thought I had wrapped up neatly. Holding on. Grasping. And is that something like panic?

I have read books about this, about the virtues of letting go, how beautiful it will be. I’ve known it was time to release that branch I've used to tether myself to the water's safe edge, the only thing keeping me from flying downstream. I remember smiling at the salmon as they hop upstream; silly salmon- you think you can keep that up forever? Let go, the river nudges, gently at first. Sticks and leaves and bubbles fly past at break-neck speeds, toppling over rocks and quickly out of sight.

My enthusiastic faith in the river, in the better life I’ve heard to be found downstream, is replaced with- terror? Something like it. Something immune to rationality, to reality. River: If you don’t let go, the branch will break anyways.

I'm not sure if I let go or if I couldn't hold on anymore. The current hasn’t slowed; I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what the next inch of river brings.

It is dark, and I finally revel in it. The darkness becomes my liberator. I’m not in control; I don’t have to be, and thank God, because I’m exhausted from the misconception. I am seeing the lessons in the darkness. Only in darkness can I surrender to the universe- it is not surrender if I know all of the outcomes, or if I think I do. Only in the darkness can the light find itself.

“Blackbird fly, blackbird fly, into the light of the dark black night.”

I am peeling through the blackness, and I can see the light.

how to rock like Emily Dickinson.

"Adopt the pace of nature.

Her secret is patience."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

simple lovelies

Picking out a new friend when two of your best friends just moved out together.

lighting incense.

writing a little blog, even if it's kind of feast or famine-y.

Happy tea in my kitschy little mug.

reading poetry (Marcie, this is a book I got that day we went to that estate sale(s).

leaning

I am leaning, and I don't know into what.

I used to see my whole future- the entire thing. I knew all of the boxes of which I would be checking, I knew them by heart; I had been planning them for years. I wrapped these plans carefully and clung to them white knuckled, riding out the lonely times of my past on these childhood dreams. I wouldn't repeat those mistakes- ever. I wouldn't lose my footing for love- ever. I wouldn't be vulnerable like that- ever.

And there I was, vulnerable anyways.

That crystal ball? Rouse. Selecting the details of my life carefully out of a catalog? Limiting. Vulnerable? Oh yes- this whole time. A newish feeling for someone like me to actually feel, though vulnerable I've always been. I find it to be paradoxical in nature, like a black and white drawing. Black defines white. White defines black. Vulnerability defines living. Living defines vulnerability. B is moving today, and it is a step forward. Seven years of looking for Home with one another, and we are off to separate houses. It's not so much that he is moving that makes me shake; the fear is in what comes next, a different kind of life. So far, it seems my objective had been to avoid pain...

Leaning. Into my bliss? Yes, but I can only see the very next step in this game. I have no boxes to check off, and I don't know where I'm going. God, I can actually feel it, through my chest, my stomach. It's raining, and I can't see ahead of me, but I smell something like spring, and I think I'll stick around for the new life, for the harvest. How long have I been swimming upstream, I wonder? Tired, yes. Will it be liberating to let go, to let the currents take me? Will it be terrifying? Will I get hurt? What will I find?

"Well," said Pooh, "we keep looking for Home and not finding it, so I thought that if we looked for this Pit, we'd be sure not to find it, which would be a Good Thing, because then we might find something that we weren't looking for, which might be just what we were looking for, really." -quoted from The Tao of Pooh