A Year of Getting Ahead

Bringing You my Pens.......

2015-04-20T21:52:00.001-07:00

A year ago...I wrote my...well...last post...at least I felt it would be...but then...we never really know the future...

I remember when I decided to embark on my...vision quest...2011...I was lost...tossed aside...and very alone...I had wanted someone...someone to call my own...and destiny said no...I had wanted children...and through many twists of fate...it never happened...I felt that I had been denied...all the things that I had asked for in life...that a glass ceiling made it possible to see...all that I could not have...and so...I decided to leave...I decided to go somewhere that it seemed no one else wanted to go...where the air is damp...the spiders large and where no woman should want to travel...alone...but then I'd often been alone...and was again...the writing was on the wall...Fate had twisted me...and so I twisted my life...and forced myself...beyond my fears and low esteem...to teach...in the Mississippi Delta...

The first day of being a novice...no...inexperienced...no...idiot turned teacher...I told my new students I loved them...before I had ever met them...and it was true...I loved them more than I loved myself...and it was through them...that I learned to love myself again...I traded with them...writing...really writing...and they gave me myself back...how had they known what I needed...140 students...bright...brilliant...beaming faces...questioning minds...sometimes frustrated...but always believing...and sometimes chewing on my pens...

Dalvin Franklin...yes Dalvin...turned me into a buyer of many pens...he was in my morning class...not the next Alexander Dumas of literature...but a sharp...quizzical mind...who finished all his assignments...often before other students...unable to keep his bottom in his seat...and...unable to use my pens...without chewing the end off...twisting them into unrecognizable...objects...and then promptly returning them to my desk...and taking another...because they were replaceable...Ms. Lew...why are you making us write this...Ms. Lew...this doesn't make any sense...Ms. Lew...one day I'm gonna make you write an essay for me...

That was two years ago...and...about four weeks ago...he contacted me...through Facebook...from far away...because I had done what I set out to do...and came home...Now..he had done what he set out to do...He had achieved what all my students had achieved...to beat the literacy goals for their school district...and move toward Senior year...and...whatever the future might hold...because we had written...and written...and written...together...but...on this day four weeks ago...Ms. Lew...I need your help...with English...

Now...he wasn't in trouble...but he knew that learning was serious business...and he knew that I had promised...to always be there...We talked for a bit...I did my troubleshooting...he did the question asking...and then the listening...at last...we brought the discussion to a close...just like in class...and I told him...I missed him...he told me that he couldn't wait...for me to come to my other home...home to them...to him...for the graduation that I promised to attend...if they promised to work hard...he told me that he was a good boy...and I said...I know...because...he was...

This weekend...he died...found twisted in his truck...somehow fate had chosen to take him...and like my pens...leave him an unrecognizable object...the difference...he is irreplaceable...there is no other Dalvin to take his place...I have found myself crying...at inopportune moments...unabashedly...

Dalvin...why are you making me write this...Dalvin...this doesn't make any sense...Dalvin...I am writing this essay for you...Thank you for contacting me...you know...you boys rarely do...thank you for making me take time out of my day...once again...to be with you...Thank you Dalvin...for helping me love again...to live again...thank you for pushing my buttons...and the buttons on your phone...so that we could negotiate...one last time...

Dalvin...you never knew this...but you...and all your friends changed my life...and I am better for it...I'll see you soon...in a couple of weeks...we'll talk for a bit...we'll both laugh...I know I will cry...just like I am crying now...but that's okay...it's all good...I know my way now...I won't be lost again...oh...and Dalvin...don't worry...

I'll be bringing you my pens...

My Words in the Wind...

2014-03-20T14:24:00.000-07:00

When I was eight...I was told a parable...about a woman who did not understand the power of her words...she was asked to take a feather pillow...tear it open...and shake it in the wind...when she did...the feathers scattered to the four corners of the earth...the feathers are your words...then she was told to go and collect all the feathers...I cannot I'll never find them all-there is no way to get all of them back...

Recently...I have found myself discussing communication...well...the act of using your words...choosing carefully...before you speak...not because I am an expert at this...for I am not...it was only to express to another person...that once you have spoken...you have spoken...the words are out there...forever...they will affect...for a long time...and with each interaction we had...I could see feathers adrift in the sky...the utter helplessness...in the face of my opposition...as wicked pin feathers fell from their mouth...caught up in the swirling storm surrounding them...I walked away...because I could no longer sift through...to see the person...

That parable...had such an effect on me...that I have spent much of my life...with my lips clamped shut...in abject terror...of what might slip out of my mouth...I did not feel that I could control words...When I did...finally...choose to speak...I was ill prepared for the act of speaking...so much so...that my right leg increased its' muscle development...due to hopping...as I spent too many years...with my left foot...lodged in my mouth...

Ironically...our society has been barreling...toward communication without thought...We have so many devices to help us vomit our thoughts...only to find ourselves on our hands and knees...attempting to wipe up our mess...or...simply walk away...leaving others in our stink...To be fair...we all need to experience...putting our words out there...and then apologizing afterwards...unfortunately...many only get the first part...and never attempt the second...and then...to add irony to the ironical...we flee in the face of words...that should be used...every chance we get...I'm sorry...what do you think...thank you...excuse me...not to be confused with excuse me...please...I was wrong...yes...when it is right...no...when your conscience nudges you...and...I love you...

I have found...after a lot of hopping around...that if I keep a healthy dose of these words accessible at all times...I have little to regret...and when I use the words...no regret..I don't mean...speaking without conscience...I really mean...that my heart and my head...come together...embrace...and the words spill out...beautiful goose down...flitting gracefully...aloft on breezes...to the far edges of the earth...

The more I practice...the more comfort I feel...in saying...and receiving these words...and I believe...that each day I move closer...to letting everyone connected to me...know how I feel about them...in a positive...nurturing way...even in the most awkward times...I love them...to the core of my being...I love them for all the laughter...challenges...quirks...disappointments...and picture perfect moments...in walking away...I don't love them less...just differently...if I stay...it is because I love them with abandon...and I'm not afraid to say it...every day...I cannot control responses...but I know that I do have it within me to control...

...my words in the wind...

No Accidental Passenger...

2014-03-19T17:12:00.001-07:00

Weeks have rolled by since my last post...I have been travelling...not a new experience for me...I often wonder at my ability...to start over...There are moments of marvel...and then...there are the moments of concern...I constantly struggle...to offer...my complete...wholehearted...permission...to myself...and my desires...to always try new things...new people...new places...

Before my big transition...my move from one part of the country...to the other...back home...to the place...that I have discovered I belong...I viciously stripped myself of belongings...dragging my past to the curb...passing the belongings...that I had believed...were deeply rooted...in my heart...to anyone who passed my driveway...and finally...when I could no longer force my muscles to move...I simply walked to my car...stepped in...started the engine...and drove away...

For days...I have awakened with moments of horror...as I remembered...this item...or that...which I had...just left...even my former roommate and friend has shaken her head...at the neatly left behind items...each of us whispering...I can't believe this was left behind...Just as suddenly...as these thoughts...threaten to haunt me...a sense of relief washes over me...and I feel like I can breath again...in a way that I never have before...Yet...even in these odd moments...of new found freedom...I have found myself asking this question...even though the things are gone...am I still carrying...with me...on my back...the heaviest burden of all...me...

I wonder...how many of us...clean out our life...of the physical...items...treasures...things we worship...people...and travel great distances...only to find ourselves...steeped...in the same situations...complications...relationships...problems...perplexed about the how and the why...I mean...it only makes sense that...throwing out the garbage...would make room for the new...the better...the healthy...yet...all that extra space we've created...suddenly fills...with the same...

I truly can't point a finger at others...the fact is...I still have...things...I have not learned to let go...I really don't have much left...that I can throw out...or drag to the street...or give away...and I'm okay with that...but it does leave plenty of open air space...for me to see...what I keep bringing to the table...what I wear like a trusty backpack...what I keep putting into the universe...what I keep attracting...I'm not punishing myself for trying...but I have to do more than hope...hope for a change...for something better...I have to do more than try...because trying isn't getting me voted off the island...that I am trying so desperately to exit...

I have no answers yet...I have plenty of questions...yet for all my ignorance...about myself...and the choices I have made...one thing is quite clear...I may have lightened my load...I may have packed my car...and driven over 1000 miles to reconnect with a place...that I once ran from...but the seat next to me was filled...with someone I have traveled beside my whole life...someone who...only I am responsible for...She may be many things...but she's...

...no accidental passenger...

Insignificant Others...

2014-02-26T21:09:00.002-08:00

Life is filled with significant moments...there is the day we are born...our first day of school...puberty...our first fight...or the time we threw up tomato soup...out of our nose...we remember these things...either with embarrassment...or with fondness...As we grow older...we accrue...significant people...our parents...grandparents...friends...and lovers...We continue grow...change...and soon enough...we reach our Indian Summer...it is there that we make pivotal decisions...will I stay with this person...will I embark on a lone journey...and possibly...will I ever find anyone... Even if on the surface...if you think you want to be alone...deep...deep down...those questions will be asked...and those questions...will break hearts...or fill them with love...

I have spent a lifetime...constantly aware of these...significant moments...and the people attached...As a woman with no family left...people have been most important to me...and although...I constantly struggle to understand...all the nuances of relationships...I have always found it difficult to let things go...to let people walk away...when they are no longer...well...wanting to be there...

The past four years...have left me...questioning the significance...of all the events that transpired...of my reactions...and responses...and even...my purpose in life...I have reached out...to find my path...to reconstruct...my life...to fill the emptiness...of loss...and to reconnect...with anything...or anyone...who I had unfinished emotional business with...and I cried...deeply...and soulfully...for all that I didn't understand...about those who I felt were significant...in my life...then...when I felt that my heart...had met its conclusion...I met someone...

Unexpectedly...after I'd stopped looking...stopped trying everything...and I was sure...that my journey ...was quite finished...now that...I was going home...significantly changed...my glass heart...broken...with all its sharp edges...glistening in the light...I felt had dimmed...in my eyes...and a newly set barbed wire fence...to protect what I had left...after all my significant moments...and people...had done their worst...and I was just standing still...he stepped onto my path...

The moment was not significant...at first...it was just another interaction...and my quiet bitterness said...oh...he's just passing through...he won't be any different...than all the others...who had significantly...affected my heart...and I tried my hardest...to believe...that he was insignificant...that this was not a person...who might change everything...who might...even change me...

The fact is...I am changing all the time...but the one constant...in my life...has been fear...and there has never been an intimate relationship...for me...that didn't have a significant amount of it...until now...until he...reached in...into my heart...to a place that I believed...had no room left...that place that believed...I would always struggle...with the fear of someone entering...or exiting...

Tonight...as I drove...to my home...for only nine more days...I didn't think about being alone...I didn't worry...that he would leave...I didn't stress...that he would discover...that I am not worthy...or that I have imperfections...I only felt...not still...but a stillness...a peace...and a deep passionate warmth...love...that I have never experienced before...that I only believed was possible...but feared I would never know...and...although...I am a woman...who looks for the significance...in all moments...I realized that this man...was not my significant person...but that we...he and I...found significance in each other...by accident...and...in a world...of disposable people...and transient relationships...we...together...significantly believe in love...even though we are filled with perfect imperfections...and weaknesses...and vulnerabilities...

I suppose...one could try and pinpoint...what exactly is significant about he and I...even we try...to label...or name...what we have discovered...in each other...I wish I had the words...to define...in greater terms...than simple love...but what we have found...is not complicated...All I know...is that the significance of our coming together...is that the moment...we saw each other...everything else began to fade away...and our path...together...was clear...and...suddenly...not overshadowed by all those...

...insignificant others...

I Can't...I'm too Scarred...

2014-02-15T11:46:00.001-08:00

When I was an actress...many years ago...I was lucky enough to work with some amazing...and talented people...I learned about the do's and don'ts of the stage...and among the plethora of directors...who led me to many an opening night...there was one...whose blend of truth and searing sarcasm...instilled in me...beliefs and philosophies...that have shaped my entire adult life...

Phrases like...What are you doing...Just make it happen...and the ever hilarious...That pause was so long a bus stopped, dropped off people and drove away...all exacted immediate action from his actors...and often shame...combined with a healthy dose of laughter...But...the words...that he spoke only once to me...which have continued to affect my adult decisions...were this...There is a fine line between fear and excitement...which will you choose...

As I review my choices...contemplate my decision to return to Colorado...and spread my wings...in my new...ever blossoming intimate relationship...with the blessings this man brings...to my life...I find that I am revisiting that statement...expressed to me...when I was fresh...and new...The interesting part...for me...is that...I'm not thinking about my own actions...but of the actions of those around me...

I spent years healing...licking my wounds...cleaning out my closets...and putting vanishing cream on my deep...deep scars...During that period...I made many decisions...based on fear...I ran away...I ran toward...I sabotaged...I sacrificed myself...and then finally...when there was nothing left to do...I found peace...and I stepped over the line...and found excitement again...So...while I couldn't control...the actions of others...I knew what I wanted...and I was no longer afraid...to ask for it...to wait for it to happen...and to keep trying...consistently...with determination...and to move on...if my desires did not match those of another...person...place...or thing...

After a lifetime...of believing that I deserved...and would one day find...that one person...who would see me...for all my perfect imperfections...and that undiminished idealism...I suddenly...but not without preparation...find that there is someone standing by my side...seeing life as I do...and I am filled...with joy...and excitement...One would think...this is the end of my story...what else can be said...and for me...maybe so...but here's the rub...just as my quest...appears to be reaching a tremendous...joyous...culmination...I find myself faced with others...crossing the line...that fine line between fear and excitement...about my life...

Truthfully...I expect a response to my decisions...factually...I have made my journey an open forum...humbly...I have learned many a lesson...and shared my experiences...good and bad...with...everyone...So...I was not surprised to receive feedback...about embarking on a new journey...with someone else...What did floor me...is that for every yea...there has been a nay...that instead of excitement...I have received messages of...well...fear...encouragement...to remain alone...in bitter scarred tones...from voices...not my own...

Maybe...I need to clarify some things...being hurt...is not my goal...but it is a risk you run...when you decide to try...anything...and I like...that I take risks...over and over...I would gain nothing...by sitting still or hiding...I don't live my life for others...I live my life...so that I can share it with others...I live without regret...because I make the decision every day to cross that fine line...between fear and excitement...I feel them both...but I choose only one...and I'm excited about that choice...

None of us...can control...what others do...we can only control how we respond...and as long as another's choice is not directly affecting you...that other person...has the right to be excited about something...or someone...new...In a world with so much unhappiness...disappointment...and pain...isn't it a potential celebration...when someone can announce...something wonderful happened in their life...a reminder that your time is coming too...that joy is always...just around the corner...that everything good...is worth believing in...and that there is no shame...in optimism...

As for me...I have every intention...of grabbing this brass ring...and holding on tightly...with every hope and idealistic dream...that this is it...this is the one...because if I don't...I encourage that fine line...to develop into a huge welt...that becomes an impasse...that becomes a wall...and then he would give up...and walk away...ensuring...that my fears...become reality...Much can be said...about my life choices...I can't control what has been done to me...but I can control how I respond...I won't say that I will never feel fear...but...without a doubt...you will never hear me say...

I can't...I'm too scarred...

A Pocket Full of Change...

2014-02-11T15:49:00.002-08:00

The other day I was grocery shopping...money's tight these days...but I'm keeping it together...and when it came time to pay...I reached for the dollar bills...only to be confronted by a load of change...I quickly asked the cashier...if she would be too upset...if I paid with a lot of coins...Clearly uninterested with my plea...she accepted and sighed...as I continued to explain...I have so much change...that I was tired of looking at it...it was weighing me down...and I would let someone else deal with it...for awhile...

I started thinking about how much change I had been dealing with...for the past four years...It seemed...that as I was altering my life...I was paying the bill...for a lifetime of decisions...that others had made for me...and the ones I had made for myself...and still...I had a pile full of change...

Recently...I was offered an opportunity...to bring someone into my life...someone who embodied everything...everything I had asked for...all these years...and I felt that all of my change...had generated this person...as repayment for a lifetime of believing...striving...to be better...the best...woman I could be...After focusing...for four years...on my development...my growth...I felt...that I had reached a pinnacle...and...now that all the change was over...I was really ready to move forward...

As he and I connected...I shared with him...what I felt he needed to hear...you know...the...I have the responsibility to let you know...the...he'll want to hear this...and...basic facts...I'm on the other line...or...I'll call you in a minute...For me...that made perfect sense...because...in the past...I had shared everything...which other parties were not interested in...so I changed my approach...I would only pass on the bare minimum...not make a nuisance of myself...and spare my heart...for when they exited...after all...I had changed my perspective...on the longevity of relationships...

Then...quite suddenly...I found myself...at an impasse...he said he needed...I said I hear you...hold on a sec...he was hurt...I tried to smooth things out...It was all so logical to me...and then I heard...myself...I haven't been in a relationship for four years...you've got to give me a break...I didn't know...and his question...why...why didn't you know...I know what is important to you...what...what is it that you do all day...where...where did you get the idea that I might leave...how...how am I supposed to know what you won't tell me...I was stunned...back peddling...stammering...defensive...scared...and then humbled...

The truth is...I have changed...all by myself...adjusting to imaginary scenarios...unable to believe...that the words...be yourself...don't mean...be what I want you to be...that for all my believing...part of me had stopped...stopped believing in that one person...who wants to know all about you...that loves the down and dirty...just as much as the angelic think tank...and...even more honestly...after four years...I could only hear myself...I had selfishly assumed...that I was beyond being selfish...that I was now the very best...of me...and that I no longer had need for change...

The fact is...all that change...weighing me down...it still spends...and maybe the weight is needed...to keep me closer to earth...All that humility...really isn't any good...if I have to go around telling everyone...that I am now humble...and if I have to reason away my behavior...in the wake of another's needs...especially a man...who knows every flip of my hair...upturned eyes...and nod of my head...maybe...I should stop counting my change...and start using it...unselfishly...

I'd like to say...that I'm all done...fixed...fantastic...I'm not...I'm just different...now it's time to change again...we all have to do it...and I think I should consider...the idea of including...this other wonderful person...in my future decisions...if I want him to be there...for the future...I don't know if this makes me humble...or wise...or even thrifty...but I do know...that everywhere I go...I think I better keep some with me...you know...

...a pocket full of change...

Isn't That Romantic...

2014-02-04T22:46:00.000-08:00

I've never thought of myself as a romantic...idealist...yes...believer in love...yes...hopeful about the future...yes...but the concept of being swept away...that someone would come along...and save me...from...everything...or anything...just didn't make sense to me...and I've never seen myself as powerless...frozen...yes...conflicted...yes...lost...yes...but I knew that all the answers lie in my heart...and head...

As I walked through America's place to shop...and wear spandex...with a tube top...Wal-Mart...I was overwhelmed...with the hearts...flowers...candy...balloons...over sized stuffed animals...and tremendous push...to give in...and tell someone that they are special...that even though you haven't said it this year...that you really do love them...and love comes with a price tag...

I forced myself to walk the aisles...and contemplate...why I had never cared for this holiday...and how I felt about it now...that my life had morphed...changed...blossomed...how I would approach this holiday...with someone new in my life...and what I believed it really meant to be romantic...and here's what I came up with...

Romance...is being tired...coming home...and the other person has taken care of dinner...Love...is doing the dishes...which you hate to do...after the other person has made dinner...Romance...is doing the dishes together...Romance is watching someone's eyes...and telling them...that it is wonderful the way they shift to the left when they speak...or that you love the ending of their very loud laugh...or that you could talk with them for hours...or brushing that strand of hair out of their eyes...letting your hand linger to trace the shape of their face...and Romance is about buying Finding Nemo for him...and he buys you the electric sander you've been eyeing at Home Depot...

The cost of Romance...is great...it is risking your heart...over and over...acting with the belief that if you give...that committing the act of giving is enough...it is putting their needs before yours...it is asking what they want...and remaining steadfast in the act of giving...when they choose something different than what you might secretly wish...and staying in the room with them during the discussion...

It doesn't matter how you candy coat it....or what rose petals lead you to the decision...to give of yourself...again and again...each time you do...each time you Romance the apple of your eye...sometimes dollars will be spent...but not necessarily on only one day a year...Odds are...you will Romance without dropping a dime..after all...that mountain wildflower you picked for them...doesn't come with a price tag...

Imagine what it would be like...to see a door being opened for you...through the eyes of Romance...or that soup and cornbread...made just the way you like it...with fresh corn...as a visual representation of that other person...Romancing you...by keeping you warm...and nurtured...and cared for...or waking to...the dogs already having been walked...on your morning for handling the responsibility...because it's cold outside...and they wanted you to sleep a little longer...then...instead of waiting for February...you take that person's hand...and you say thank you...right at that moment...letting them know that you see them...really see them...I don't know about you...but really...any day...

...isn't that romantic...

A-Head of the Pride...

2014-01-17T18:43:00.001-08:00

With a few hours of nothing in particular to do...and high speed internet...combined with the Discovery Channel page...I found myself digging deep...into the world of lions...Please don't try to understand my reasoning...it just happened...sort of like YouTube happens...you just lose time...

As a lifelong cat lover...anyone who knows me well would agree...intertwined with the fact that I have always prided myself on the amount of useless knowledge I have...I focused on these great beasts...but...only a few moments of research...opened my eyes to all that I didn't know...which happened to be a lot...

Lions are very social animals...sharing the responsibilities...all of them...even the leader...from hunting...to rearing young...They..seemingly...have no time for this is mine...and that's yours...humbly working together...to care...in cooperation...in ruling...for they find that working alone...well...leads to danger and death...and...although the cats don't live forever...the group lasts for an extremely long time...Ironically...their group unit is called...a pride...

I started thinking...about...not just the past two years...but...my entire life...I have traveled in groups...I have helped others...and I've helped myself...as an island...unto myself...quite sure that I needed no one...
I can't remember that last time...in my life...that I have not contemplated my motivations...even when I was lying to myself...and I have made it through a lot...I became a lone machine...capable of breaking through walls...belief systems...glass ceilings...and two years ago...I decided that I would bring my greatness...to another part of the country...

I was proud to live simplified...but then...I just couldn't let this go...or let that lay...I was extremely confident...that I had my fingers...on the pulse...of forward movement...of success...and I hunted for opportunities...to do what I do best...and roar...for those that couldn't roar for themselves...What I discovered...was that most of my moments here...have been filled with dangers...I have faced my mortality...more than I believed possible...I also discovered...there were so many ways...to hit rock bottom...and my eyes were opened to what I didn't know...which happened to be a lot...

All the while I was struggling...my inner pride...kept me from admitting...that I couldn't do more here...that I was often...not wanted...that it didn't matter who I thought I was...the only thing I have control over...is me...and yet I sat...head in my hands...staring at the ground...refusing to look to my past...for the good...wonderful things that I had...and...the possibility...that I already had a home...before I went...deep... into the jungle...searching for a new one...

Maybe sometimes...it takes hitting the rock bottom...beneath the rock bottom...to truly humble us...we are so proud...of being proud...that our pride...won't let us...see what is all around us...You think you are humble...sleeping on an air mattress...close to the earth...until the air escapes...and you find yourself...on the earth...until you have sold everything...that you believed to be valuable...and you are alone...while you are doing this...so full of yourself...that there is no room for help...and cooperation...and the only way out is...on your knees...crawling...forgetting all your awards...that diploma...the image you created...and that you are a survivor...because none of those things landed...in your hands...without others...back when you thought you were king of the jungle...and that your roar...could make things happen...

And so...I finally looked behind me...for all the right reasons...and there is that door...wide open...it had never closed...it was the draft that I kept feeling at my back...when I could never feel warmth...in 100 degree temperatures...and 100 percent humidity...and...although...I did make a difference...just by trying...by setting things in motion...I'm not convinced...that there is any worth...in traveling alone...and now that I understand what it means to work without others...I want to be a part...just a part...of something good...working in cooperation toward the greatness of another entity...and trading my simplified life...for just...simple...With this being said...I turn...and face west...I am headed home...now that I am truly...

a-head of the pride...

The Long and the Short of It...

2014-01-13T21:29:00.002-08:00

Two years ago...I began this blog...this journal...or short essays...that chronicled my thoughts...beliefs...and constantly changing inner landscape...as I pursued uncovering a woman who was raised to lack confidence...to be alone...to need someone to complete me...to be a victim...and during that time...I have spoken...from my heart...shared many of my secrets...and explored my motivations...in the hopes that I would emerge...a better person...Early...early...in my journey...I spoke of the relationship I had with my hair...I actually think of this topic often...

I'm not a religious person...I was raised to be...but my life...and family...led me to see only hypocrisy...in something that spoke of freedoms...in a tight box of rules...and judgement...much like my mother's judgement of whether I should be allowed to have long locks...and I created my own confined beliefs...of why I should have the hair of romance novels...and bad fiction...and yet...I found myself contemplating religion...and hair...through the biblical tale of Sampson and Delilah...Sampson...a virile...strong man...had long and lustrous curls...and when he let his guard down...the person he trusted...a woman...clipped his hair short...and his strength...evaporated...

I...a woman...have been told...verbally...in whispers...or loudly...and in subtle...more sinister ways...by society...and media...that I would lose all my power...as a woman...if I cut off my hair...that I would be less desirable...I would look like a man...or worse...I would be considered one of those women...you know...the ones who no longer like men...and I awoke this morning...with a question...why do I care...

The fact is...I learned from my mother...that I was no one...if I was not with a man...and so I tried...I worried...I chased...I tried to be chased...and chaste...I have dated...married...divorced...and shared my wares...with many...I have twisted myself...conformed...been silent...been charming...and funny...and worn my hair...in a million ways...to please men...and the only time it has pleased me...was when it was cropped...short...I mean short...the way I like...thanks to Jennifer Lawrence...I was reminded of the freedom of a look...that says...I don't want you to focus on my mane...because the main draw about me...is...and should be...just me...

I suddenly felt sorry for Sampson...that his vanity...was his strength...and that a woman was blamed...for introducing the idea...that strength is not about appearance...it's about what you carry inside you...I am no longer about my hair...I am not that girl...who could not stand with confidence...singularly...not alone...but with room around her...for more important things...than needing someone else to define her...

I also realized...that I have not been taking care of myself...the way I should...I have let myself down...allowed a floundering...of my soul...and I have allowed my best...brilliant self to be covered...weighted down...with poor habits...and fear...that I needed to look a certain way...to receive the respect I deserve...and I have covered my mind...and face...to attract...all the things I already have...from someone else...

My decision...in thirty days...from today...I will enter a salon...with a recent picture of Jennifer Lawrence...and pay too much money...for my hair to be clipped...cropped...and possibly highlighted...not because I want attention...but because...I think my hair has been getting in the way...covering too much of my mind...and too many hours have been spent...grooming myself for a mate...instead my future...

Oh...there will be remarks...and pitying looks...from men and women...many will be saddened that I have given up my strength...but then the world is full of fools...and clowns...individuals who make choices...to entertain and please others...and though the world will continue to revolve on its axis...I'm done with the revolving door...of those who do not see me...for who I am...because my bangs are in the way...

Think what you want...it's time to lose the weight...and the locks...that have locked me into society's vision of a woman's beauty...no matter how you cut it...that is...and from this point forward will be...

...the long and the short of it...

The Tortoise or the Hare...

2014-01-12T18:25:00.000-08:00

Often my most important moments happen...in the shower...I don't know if my head clears...or the surprising...lack of hot water...opens my mind...but...so it was a week ago...I have not posted for several weeks...the holidays...entrances...and exits...have occurred...and...I haven't been able to formulate words...it happens...from time to time...but a week ago...the curtain...in my mind...was pulled back...and I was struck by these thoughts...

My last post...was about nursery rhymes...how I connected with them...and saw myself through them...I began thinking about the importance of morality tales...rhyming allegories...and parables...in my life...I did not grow up with parents...who taught me much...beyond what not to do...so I turned to these...stories...to...hmmm...guide me...cradle me...in my development...a long time ago...I stopped turning to them for answers...until recently...

Aesop was a slave...in Greek times...it is debated...about his ethnicity and origin...but his simple...and wise philosophies...have been passed down through the ages...one that is burned in my memory...is the Tortoise and the Hare...

It seems that there was a tortoise and a hare...and they were in a race...the gist is...that the hare lost...because...his energy was spent...on the beginning of the race...so convinced that he would win...because of who he was...and the tortoise...remained focused...and won...because of his willingness...to continue on the course...and not worry about the end...but look to the journey...as a compass and touchstone...if it were...to lean on...for his confidence...

I've been thinking...about my duality...of tortoise...and hare...even though I loved the story...and understood the moral...I have spent most of my life...being the hare...fast to respond...quick to move...believing I would accomplish much...not waiting for all things to reveal themselves to me...This year...I have been forced...then...became centered...on identifying with the tortoise...I've stood still...a great deal...I've requested...the room...to take my time...to allow life to open naturally to me...and moved in a paced...and maybe...a boring...style...creating a deep and eternally grateful sense...of dignity...within myself...as chaos has swirled...as I watched...and everything has been revealed...while I plodded along...

So...here I lay...dumbfounded...as once again...I have entered a race...an experience race...and I am moving forward...but the other participant...has lost their steam...their desire...their will...to complete the mission...and...I am so very thankful...that I move slowly...even though...this is a lonely place...in any race...when you are pacing yourself...

There is a part of me...that habitually wants to blame me...as I have always done...in the past...and berate myself...for not responding fast enough...not answering the way that they wanted me to...not running at a crazy pace...not throwing all caution to the wind...but...truthfully...I want the wind at my back...pushing me along...not lifting me off the ground...to drift aimlessly...in a torrent...that rips me limb from limb...

I realize...that the steady path...often means you travel alone...and I want...oh...I want someone at my side...but I can't lose time...lose myself...with someone who does not see the end result...of me...what I have to offer...and even...as I feel my sense of longing growing...and the finish line...so far away...I ask myself again...what do I wish to be...a flash in the pan or everlasting flame...

...the tortoise or the hare...

Mother Goose Knows All...

2013-12-17T18:17:00.000-08:00

When I was a child...I committed myself...to memorizing all fairy tales...and nursery rhymes...there was...well...no rhyme or reason...it was just my belief...that they held all the mysteries...and answers... to life...Whenever I was sick...which was often...I read...no...committed to memory...each story...riddle and rhyme...and prepared myself for the retelling...with all honor and respect...for a mother...who looked like a bird...

Jack Sprat and his wife...opened my eyes...to the idea that...two people did not have to mirror each other...to reach fulfillment and a common goal...licking a platter clean...Georgie Porgie...warned me of impulsive behavior...which I struggled with...daily...that chasing after everyone...and everything would only make those things...run from me...and Little Miss Muffet...prepared me for my greatest fears...that I would have to face...if I didn't want to lose my dinner...literally...and figuratively...But...the most important...and pivotal lesson...came from Humpty Dumpty...falling from grace...breaking...and others trying to fix him...

Four years ago...I sat on a wall...looking down...from a very high place...unaware of how very fragile my life was...and that I was not in control...When the fall came...I was unprepared...and lay broken...shattered...in thousands of pieces...and all the king's horses...and men...couldn't put me back together again...

So there I remained...reaching out...pulling each fractured piece...of my shell...back towards me... shifting their positions...in an attempt...to replicate...my puzzled self...to no avail...It seemed at times...that all my gooey insides...were running all over the place...because they were...mixed up...brain scrambled...and my emotions...well...nothing was in check...

Then...I stopped trying...trying to fix...trying to grasp answers...trying to pretend...and I sat very still...very still...when I did move...they were small movements...imperceptible...to the human eye...storms came and went...seasons changed...and I found myself blown...in a new direction...many times...Until...at last...all became calm...and there was rest...for the forces of my nature...

When the light...broke through the clouds...and began to shine upon my head...I saw the cracks and fissures...that I had once feared...revealed...something greater...more wonderful...than anything...I could have done on my own...no one thing fixed me...nobody...put me back together...because the together life I had lived...was just a shell...that hid the greatest parts of me...and it took falling...to break that façade...to release all that I tucked away...from the world...and myself...

So the moral to the story...a fall from...so called grace...is sometimes necessary...to break with habits...that keep us high up...that keep us safe...the danger is all that distance from the ground...and sometimes broken...is the best place to start...because...in the light of day...all that chaos...that we were running from...is really quite true...and honest...and beautiful...Ahhh...that devilishly clever poultry figure...

Mother Goose knows all...

I've Been Here Before...

2013-12-08T19:49:00.001-08:00

I have always been fascinated with the concept of reincarnation...the idea that we are all...somehow connected...that we are...the missing pieces to a puzzle...that time...and lives intersect...allowing us to work out past wrongs...have the ultimate do over...correct our mistakes...have another chance to be with...that person...and most important...that you may have been Queen Elizabeth...in a former life...after all...who wants to discover...that they were a telephone operator...or the guy that held the piss bowl...in a nondescript court...in Serbia...

My life...these days...is about revisiting my past...correcting my wrongs...facing my demons...changing my negative life behaviors...man...have I been busy...I find that every day...is about redirection...attempting to not be perpetually embarrassed...about...well...everything...I can't do much about my childhood...realistically...I was born...I made due...then...I was old enough to create my own life...I did that...I'm satisfied...it's all that stuff that I did...when...I supposedly...was making important life decisions...on my own...and I blew it...

I raced around...frantically...attempting to find a person...to fill my emptiness...I can't blame the ones that stuck...for being idiots...or jerks...or unfaithful...there were always signs...of the inevitable chasms...that I would be at the bottom of...by the time they left...and was yelling to the heavens...why did I let you put me here...investing in losing situations...or people...being too nice...too naive...too pliable...too scared...and too many deja vus...

Nothing...could make me happier...than to discover that...I am...reliving a past...that I need to fix...and that I'm doing it...As I make my attempts...to break through lifetime barriers...toss out old habits...stop putting off problems...and release my creativity...I find myself collecting...many of the same people...and situations...and I wonder...quite loudly...have I done this before...have I created an eternity...of repetition...personal hurt...and poor choices...that have trapped me in a negative pattern...and...what else can I do...

Maybe...I have wasted my energy...on everything...and everyone else...Now...I am focusing on myself...maybe...the change I'm creating...is drawing in others...who believe they want a change...and maybe they feel...I might do that for them...I don't know...I don't know how this is happening...why...or how to break away...

Truth is...I feel that...every day...I get closer...to the me that I want to be...and every day...I question myself...about who I am...what my future holds...and why it hurts so much...when I begin to see...all things I do that are...well...hurting me...Then I say...is it okay...that these days...I find myself in tears...at least once a week...and...did Queen Elizabeth go through this too...or am I the only one who feels like...they are holding the piss bowl...in a nondescript court...Maybe...all of this...is wasting more time...or a distraction...from what is really in my way...Maybe...none of this matters...right now...I can't answer that...but I'll tell you what I do know...

I've been here before...

You're Too Nice...

2013-12-01T09:25:00.000-08:00

When I was growing up...I swam in shark infested waters...every move was dangerous...there was no rhyme or reason...to the things that could leave you dragging away a bloody stump...of self esteem...or dignity...I equate my early experiences...to being a war vet...too vivid memories...stories that I can't tell...and the occasional dream...that has me waking to a soaking sweat...and it was during that time...that I decided...I would be different...opposite...of the chaos...and that if I knew my actions...would bring pain to another...I would consciously...make a different choice...so that I would never purposefully hurt someone...I've stuck to that...

My adult decisions...have not always been brilliant...some border on idiocy...but I have managed to limit my times...of truly hurting someone...as a result...I have found myself...on the receiving end of the frustrations of others...and I have piles of advice from well wishers...who find it completely unbelievable...that one person could choose peace...and compromise...and empathy...over ambush...manipulation...and self serving devices...disguised as love...currently...I'm using all that advice...to stuff my throw pillows...I have a lot of pillows...

Mostly...I hear a phrase...daily...that I used to view as a compliment...then it became..confusing...then irritating..and now...an insult...to my intelligence...and ability to make choices...as a functional adult...Yesterday...I heard it three times...I brought in baked goods to share with coworkers...there it was...I gave someone a break about an issue...again...I priced an item at a lower amount...lower than others...the phrase...a third time...mentally...my brow furrowed...

I thought about it last night...and this morning...it woke me up...Why was this a common response from others...and why had it begun causing anger...to well up in me...I brought baked goods in to grow the option of baking for wages...I love to bake...and I'm pretty good...and I want to grow my earning potential...I gave someone a day pass for attitude...because...I didn't care...they were having a bad day...I wasn't...I knew it wasn't personal...and I priced an item low...because I sold them three...instead of one...I made more money...on something that I didn't pay a dime of my own money...I don't think my reasons are worthy of a newsletter...but I had reasons...I always do...

Then...this occurred to me...we are a mean lot...humans...we cheat...slit the throats of neighbors...brag about our conquests...standing over others...lying in the dirt...we insert ourselves...in other people's business...and call it our own...and we will peck that weak chicken bloody...because...it's a Monday...and all with a smile on our face...there's a word for that...ass-sk...anyone...

So...here's my thought...maybe that phrase...is a warning from another...that they aren't...well...you know...maybe...while they are advising you...they are also picking your pocket...taping a kick me sign to your back...and you...and all your kindness...is making them feel uncomfortable...cruelty usually travels in packs...and caring...is the lone wolf...

Just in case...you are worrying...that I am not savvy...in worldly ways...or that I'm too good...read this again...I couldn't write it...if I wasn't aware that the opposite of kind...is well...not...and some...are just rotten to the core...and it's my life...my right...to take my chances...in the hope...that my intentions will be reciprocated...that karma will be kind...and that I will die peacefully...without regret over my behavior...but if you think that I don't know exactly...what is going on...in the minds of others...well...you know...

you're too nice...

I...Me...My...

2013-11-29T22:08:00.000-08:00

I am spending the weekend...with a good friend...I am answering the questions of another...and I have someone very special...in my life...who is dealing with something...very personal...and painful...and I am trying desperately...to express my willingness to focus...on their needs...at a moments notice...

I tried...several times...to write the text...that would express my every thought...that would give them space...and let them know that I am lying in wait...for anything they need...that my thoughts are with them...that I find nothing more important...than being there...for them...I asked my good friend...if I was wording my thoughts...in a way...that spoke beyond...I questioned her thoughts...I countered her arguments...and then I scrubbed everything...as I worked through my fears and frustrations...of expressing my feelings...and having them understood...

I pondered...what needed to be said...I rewrote the text...I read it out loud...and then silently...I stared at my phone...me...a writer...I wanted to say the just right words...I erased...I re-wrote...I read it out loud...again...then I sent it...and stared at my phone again...I wondered...was this appropriate...was I too intrusive...had I said everything I needed to...would they understand all...that I could not say...

As I scrubbed my bathroom...after my kitchen...I thought...how much of my evening...had been thinking about them...that person struggling...in pain...and...I began...by counting the times that I say I...in all of my conversations...all the moments...that I place myself...in the center of situations...where I can be the center...where I worry...about another's reactions...not because I want them to be most comfortable ...but because...I worry about their response to me...

I realized...that I was irrefutably...embarrassed to be me...that all my intentions...were in need of questioning...and that I...although...I could point a finger...at my childhood...raising myself...fighting to survive...then surviving...and fighting to blend...to be more...to be heard...to make a difference...to leave my mark...that no matter the results...I had no one to blame...but me...

I wondered...how much of our reaching out to others...was really about us...the simple act...of one person...laying their hand in the hand of another...starts with us...so...how much is about someone else...when they are quietly wrestling...with...anything...and we know this...how do we drop our needs...how do we offer everything to another...and not insert...ourselves...into the prominent portion...of the equation...

Maybe we can't...maybe that is the twist in life...we reach out for others...and it's really about us...Maybe that's why English teachers...stop us...from using the words...I...me...my...from essays...and people create bumper stickers that say...I care about this because...or if I need your opinion I'll give it to you...Maybe this is why Emily Post has to write books...about courtesy...and others shake there heads...over our faux pas...as they talk about the correct way they handle things...

And...through all this...my special someone...is struggling...to figure how they will deal...with what matters to them most...and...I can't stop counting...as I read this piece...how many times...that I have said...

I...me...my...

Your Kind of Crazy...

2013-11-15T13:07:00.000-08:00

For the past few years...I have been attempting...trying...to reconstruct my life...sometimes haphazardly...sometimes desperately...my efforts could be compared to ripping open a goose down pillow in hurricane force winds...and...then collecting all the individual feathers...good luck to me...With each effort...friends...family...and random passersby have commented...you're crazy...crazy for this...crazy for that...crazy for the other thing...mentally...I gave them the finger...and kept at it...my business...

Thrown back into the dating world...not my area of comfort...became a system of hanging my dirty laundry out...for the world to see...specifically a line of potential suitors...and although their briefs and boxers sported rips...tears...and skid marks...hanging on their line...I found myself hunkering down...as they pointed at me...and said...you're crazy...for this...for that...for the other thing...

There must have been a moment...when my sensitivity...my hope...my idealism...was kicked to the curb...and my feelings stopped...well...feeling hurt...and I began winning the race to point a finger...I sharpened my razor tongue...so that when I said...you're crazy...and said it first...the receiver would limp away...hand clamped...to the gushing gash I inflicted...that way...when I put my foot on their...uh...bottom...and pushed...they would easily fall...

Recently...I have found myself in debates over crazy...you keep everything...well...you throw everything away...you collect crap...oh yeah...you have junk...you leave yours out...you have to put yours away...you chose pursuing dreams over working 9-5...you work 9-5...and don't pursue your dreams...you think you can do anything...and everything...you are too old...you are too young...you don't do enough...you do too much...you don't say enough...you say too much...all of it attached to...crazy...crazy...crazy...

Yesterday...I tore someone down...I mean down...I let them know...just how and why...they were crazy...I mapped out their craziness...drew diagrams...of how they got there...and handed them a fresh pamphlet...so they could work on...fixing their crazy...and then brushed my mental hands...in satisfaction...as they stood in silence...and then they said...you are so smart...brilliant...beautiful...you do things that help others...you are talented...and at the same time...you are mean...you have an attitude...don't you think that is crazy...I stood in silence...

I asked myself...why I had started to care...care about who was crazy...and why...when did I take that turn...turning my back...on the wonderful crazy things about me...on the beauty...that I have always been able to find in others...and the acceptance...that has been my saving grace...so that I can forgive...so that I can try...again and again...so that I can love...unconditionally...and then I said...you're right...it is crazy...the wrong kind...

So...when I came home this morning...from running my errands...that we're so important to me...and I mumbled about the woman across the street...who doesn't say hi back...the cop who stops me on the corner...once a week...to tell me I'm speeding...when I'm driving 20 miles per hour...my beautiful roommate...who leaves a trail behind her...all through the house...just as I whispered...this is crazy...I looked down at my hands...realizing that I had entered the house...dropped my purse...moved straight to the stove...and began scrubbing...and then I laughed...hysterically...blue gloves and all...head in the oven...this was crazy...and who cares...

It was in the fumes and grime...that my true epiphany came...we're all crazy...every single damn one of us...we all have quirks...dirty laundry...say inappropriate things...don't care about important things...because we all find importance...in different things...we don't listen to some things...and cling to others...we laugh when we're not supposed to...we harbor resentments...and dreams...we risk our dignity on things...people...situations...and hide in fear...because of others...

Isn't it odd...we are so busy scrubbing the oven...instead of eating lunch...and pointing our fingers...to distract...from our own behaviors...we don't bother...to ask ourselves...whether we should be telling someone...you're kind of crazy...or saying to ourselves...this is...

your kind of crazy...

When the Tables Turn...

2013-11-10T20:33:00.000-08:00

I was a little girl...when my grandfather taught me...the ins and outs of setting a table...There were right ways...and wrong ways...The spacing had to be un-crowded...the knives had to be turned blade to the plate...so you wouldn't be cut...the smaller...more petite came first...and the bigger pieces...responsible for the true nourishment...were meant to be second...and were less attractive...Most important...every item...needed to know its place...and if you placed anything wrong...everyone would be embarrassed for you...I was stressed...beyond belief...

My sense of responsibility...for even the smallest thing...will keep me awake nights...I know I seem cool...calm...and relaxed...but that's only from years of deep breathing...and mastering the art of keeping my lip from trembling...To make matters worse...I tend to be intuitive...I can sense displeasure...disappointment...or a drop in confidence...it's like being a living thermometer...and so I work...tirelessly...to maintain a temperate climate...and balance within myself...You can imagine my...hmmm...what's the word...fear...when I realized that I am beginning to...experience the first signs of...what will one day be dementia...

My aunt has it...she is the shell of the woman that I remember...brilliant and fiery...spoke two languages...traveled...and pushed everyone's buttons...she now struggles to push the right buttons on the phone...speaks a language no one understands...and travels only in her nightgown now...from room to room...

When I was a child...I suffered several serious head injuries...some from accidents...and some from "accidents"...as I grew older...I garnered a couple more...I relearned how to write...how to process information...how to focus...how to make it through migraines...how to pretend that my thinking wasn't stuck...how to cover when I couldn't pretend...and how to embrace my weaknesses...and let my gifts...my talents grow...to fill in the synaptic glitches...

As I stood in the kitchen tonight...in my mid 40's...staring at the dish soap...knowing I needed to do something with it...and my eyes darted...from the water to the bottle...and back...three times before I connected everything...I realized that I'm scared...Right now...it's little things...small details...but will there come a day...I know...that I will lose...faces...words...actions...memories...

I don't know...if I can write fast enough...love enough...see enough...break enough rules...laugh enough or loud enough...Are there really enough jokes...stories...friends...lovers...sunrises...or sunsets...children to play with...or kittens and puppies...that I won't feel pain...when they are not in the proper place...in my mind...

I suppose...that after a lifetime...of keeping everything in its proper place...maybe it is time...to mix it up a bit...maybe go to the mailbox...in my nightgown...or wear mismatched outfits...or dip Oreos in Gatorade...so that when I start to believe this is appropriate...no one will see that I've changed...Maybe...its okay...for the table to remain unset...to just toss the forks in the middle...and let everyone else figure out where they go...Maybe the things...that we tell ourselves are important...like dining etiquette...doesn't matter...in the grand scheme of things...I imagine...that when my mind...is no longer my own...getting things right might be a concern...but then...if I just focus on living...maybe I won't notice...when I can't remember anymore...

When the tables turn...

Take a Chance on Me....

2013-11-01T17:56:00.000-07:00

We all have our favorite musical artists...the ones we tell everyone about...and the ones that we keep to ourselves... Mine...ABBA...When friends discover my addiction...the jokes are endless...I laugh...but I still listen to them. Ironically...I pulled them up on Pandora...and my favorite song of theirs immediately began playing...They sang...in perfect harmony...begging for another to give them a chance...to believe in them...As I swayed...yes...swayed to the beat...I thought about my writing this week...about taking chances...risking...the theme...mistakes...

Oh my...my mistakes have been plentiful...gargantuan...epic...Some of them are the making of screenplays...some should just be buried in a flower garden...Many of them...were short lived...and some will haunt me until the day I die...but I am nothing...if not consistent...so I will continue to make mistakes...hopefully...each one only once...

If look deeper at my lifetime of foibles...as I have this week...here's what I find...I believe in others...their resiliency...their potential...and their ability to correct the path they are on...I have believed in thousands...my clients...my co workers...my government...my family...my lovers...and my friends...there is only one person that I rarely give a chance...or room for mistakes...me...

I look back over a lifetime of opportunities...that I have passed on...because I didn't believe that I was capable of achievement...If I were my own parent...which I have been much of my life...I would be that mother who says...don't even try...you will fail...Firm...to the point...and unyielding...in my belief...that I shouldn't believe in me...

My risk taking has been cleverly disguised as belief in others...as if...I were trying to trick myself...so that I wouldn't discover my own attempts...at something new...I can persuade others to believe in me...my outside the box ideas...and then promptly...go home and throw up...Years of migraines...heartburn...sleepless nights...and tears have plagued me...and my reaching out to...myself...While others sang my praises...I hung my head...positive...that I would be found out...for the fraud I believed myself to be...

It took losing everything...I mean everything...to not care anymore...what I had to say about me...What's the worst that could happen...that I wouldn't be my friend anymore...Here's the bigger question...had I ever...When was the last time...I was a good friend to myself...In a lifetime of experiences...for every hundred that I offered others...I offered one to me...always with loopholes...and conditions...and the prodding of a friend...

So...where does this leave me now...Hello...my name is Mickie...Hello Mickie...It's been three months...since I last didn't believe in myself...Tell me your story...I'm taking this day by day...sometimes I need support...but I know I'll make it...I just have to...

take a chance on me...

Boulevard of Broken Dreams...

2013-10-23T21:41:00.000-07:00

In 1942...Edward Hopper painted a snapshot of a corner diner...with three individuals at a counter...and the man behind the counter...serving them...It was meant to represent loneliness...isolation...and commonality between four strangers...In 1984...Gottfried Helnwein...replaced the individuals with Marilyn Monroe...James Dean...Elvis Presley...and Humphrey Bogart...all who died senseless deaths...and represented loneliness...isolation...and commonality between four individuals...who were actually strangers...to each other...What could this possibly have to do with anything...

Three years ago...I decided to try online dating...I was working in rural areas...I worked all the time...and I was alone...very alone...no family...no children...and the life I had known disintegrated...right before my eyes...but...being the idealist I am...I decided that there are ways to connect with others...to find that just right person...to reach out...and fill that empty place...beside me...or maybe inside...

It is an understatement...to say that I gave it my very best shot...I have been discriminating...and then I have dated indiscriminately...I have shared the condensed version of my life...so many times...that it actually bores me...I have dressed young...dressed up...dressed down...even wore a dress...I have listened to other's stories...it feels like millions... I've worked out...gotten worked up...been worked over...in four separate states...and overseas...and I am still incredibly...incredulously...single...

It would be easy to say...I will be alone forever...the fact is...I'm not alone...there are a lot...thousands...millions...of people who are alone... worse yet...lonely...and...because it is so easy to connect on the internet...they are barreling over...and through...other alone...and lonely people...and the trail of blood tells the tale...and I'm not so sure...that I haven't hurt my fair share of searching individuals...

You would think...that with so many people alone...and with advanced technology to help us...that we would connect...learn about each other...live life to its fullest...and love...long and hard...Instead...we learn nothing...stop living...and love...for the moment...We treat each other...as if we are dispensable...disposable...like fast food...

We shake our bowed heads at victimization...we cry out at bombings...we shake our fists at the heavens about poverty...unfairness...abuse of power...and then we step on the hearts of those around us...we all do it...it's so easy...so unimportant to us...because...in the back of minds...we've decided...oh...they'll survive...they asked for it...well...they put themselves out there...there's plenty of fish in the sea...The longer I have participated in roller derby dating...the more bruises I have obtained...the more that I have felt that I am broken...sometimes shattered...and the more I hear the shattering stories of slashed dreams...murdered hopes...and crushed self worth...

I guess...there is a purpose behind it all...I have met some wonderful men...who I just became friends with...and I read that people meet the love of their lives online...but it just seems to me that...as all these strangers come together...meeting in bars...or at parks...or just at a diner...the picture that has been painted for me...looks very much like...one of the most famous depictions...of individuals coming together...and still being alone...

I made the decision to stop...stop it all...stop the online dating...and the frenetic attempts...to meet someone...I suppose...this means...I may walk alone...for a long time...maybe forever...but...maybe...it will make more room for people who care about me...who want to spend time with me...and for myself...to let my talents...and aspirations grow...I realize this puts me on a path of my choosing...in uncharted territory...but I believe this is a better...kinder...more fulfilling road...that instead of following others...I will be blazing my own trail...It may get bumpy...or muddy...or boring...but with all the unknown...it will get me where I'm supposed to be...faster...then travelling the unsafe transit system on...

the boulevard of broken dreams...

Table for Two...

2013-10-11T08:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday...I hopped into my car...and headed out...My first choice was Atlanta...but I had turned in that direction for someone else...not me...similar to all the decisions I've made in my life...my intended journey was for another...So I changed direction...and came to New Orleans...

As the green trees whirred by...and the bright sun broke through the clouds...of my troubled mind...I knew that I was on the right path...With my bruised ego in the passenger seat...we discussed all the mistakes of my past...the injuries...the loneliness...the deceptions...and the shelved dreams...We reviewed the relationships...found...then lost...the places...within myself...where I had culled out space...so that someone else could set up residence...only to have them walk away...and the time spent filling in those gaps...with grains of sand...leaving me heavy and empty...and as I drove and discussed...windows rolled down...those tiny...heavy fillers...slipped away...caught by the wind...By the time I reached Lake Pontchartrain...the only thing that filled the car...was the delicious briny air and bright sunlight...I felt energized...and at peace...with myself...just the two of us...old friends...war buddies...

As dusk fell over the French Quarter...I took myself out to photograph the dark and sorted corners...street performers...couples...the working individuals...and the drunks...I sat at a bar...gulping an ice cold beer...and spoke with a young woman...risking a safe life for pursuing her dreams... I saw myself in her gestures...and the tilt of her head...as she described her risky plans...silently I said an artists prayer for her...then I slipped away...

Two blocks away...I shared a laugh with a hostess...at a busy restaurant...and our banter procured a table for me...She...unblinkingly...took me to a table...for one...with two place settings...all around me couples...pairings...groups...in the center...me...and that's when it came...the simple text...from a new potential suitor...I thought I'd send you a note...I know you must be very lonely there...

I paused...and looked around...only to catch myself in the mirrored wall...I was grinning...at myself...I hadn't even felt the corners of my mouth turn up...I think I might have been grinning the whole night...maybe the whole day...I inhaled my last oyster...dipped my fried green tomato into the last of my remoulade...washed it down with my second icy beer...and my ego sent a text back...Oh no...I'm not lonely...I chose this...I'm sitting in a beautiful restaurant at a...

...table for two...

Better...You Bet...

2013-10-05T18:31:00.001-07:00

Years ago...I found a dirty patina painting...tucked away in the back of a dingy flea market...Patina is a rare find...someone used their hands to form the delicate plaster...and carefully placed each detail on a carved board...and then breathed life into the images...with paint and brush...At first glance...the piece screamed ugly...in the poorly lit corner...islands away from all the other treasures...but there was something...I couldn't put my finger on it...No..maybe not...this wasn't of value...and I walked away...

Weaving my way through the market...I looked at...and temporarily fell in love with other pieces...only to put them back...after a few moments of touching and holding...losing interest as fast as it sparked...and all the while...that patina kept popping up...in the corners of my mind...maybe I would go back and give it a second look...well...maybe after I checked out this other item...after all...this one was sparkly...jazzy...everything I needed to know was right there...for the world to see...

Two hours passed...my hands were surprisingly empty...and that patina had moved to the forefront of my brain...I easily made my way back to the dark corner...and there she sat...until the moment I took her home...wrapped in old newspaper...only to place her in a corner of my living room...and forget about her for two months...

One ordinary afternoon...with nothing better to do...I unwrapped her...pulled her into the light...and with moistened q-tips...I carefully brushed away the years of dirt...Oh...she had some dings...bits of plaster missing...but...oddly enough...those missing pieces weren't from important parts of the painting's meaning...they only added to her character...and the untouched areas...were absolute beauty...

With each swipe of my tiny tool...the colors became brighter...her story unfolded...a young woman tending to her garden...caring for her home...and welcoming all to step through her gate...The more I unearthed...the more I was taken with her beauty...simplicity...and honesty...No complex messages...no agendas...everything she had to share was right there...and now the world could see it...

I wondered...why it had taken me so long to spend the time to clean away the nastiness...that had enveloped her...why had I felt so comfortable...passing her by...leaving her sitting alone...forgotten...and unappreciated...now...I couldn't imagine my home without her...I own nothing better...

Today...I looked in a mirror...after years...months...weeks...of uncovering...me...I wondered how I have put myself in corners...allowed dust and dirt to collect on my dreams...and talents...And as I scrape each layer off...as I work through the crevices of my life...removing the junk...and place myself in a different light...I am beginning to see my story...the one that was meant to be shared...the one that many have walked past...for something sparkly...jazzy...as I sat silently...waiting...waiting for the ordinary day...that I would take the time...to unearth the delicate patina of me...

Oh...I'm still working...slowly...patiently...this may take a bit...but every time I ask myself...will this get better...will I get better...I answer myself...yes oh yes...

...better...you bet...

The Heroin in My Story...

2013-09-27T15:11:00.001-07:00

When I was a little girl...I would find something interesting...it could be anything...and I would become...instantly...obsessed with the topic...There was the dinosaur period...where I dragged around a dinosaur bone for a week...dug holes all over the yard in search of an archaeological find...and memorized the names of all the reptiles living in the Jurassic period...

There was the day I discovered that I had Native American blood running through my veins...and began memorizing tribal sign language...which I promptly listed as the second language spoken in my home...which led to the principal's office...Then there was my obsessive reading of a new author I had discovered...and the need to read their books in order of their printing...Rudyard Kipling...Laura Ingalls Wilder...Stephen King...once I made a discovery...I was addicted...I can honestly say...that most of those addictions fell to the wayside...I never became dependent on Vicodin...or speed...never tried illegal drugs...but...there are two things that have always had a hold on me...fairy tales...and one man...

You wouldn't think that stories and a living person have anything in common...but they do...The stories all have a female...male relationship...the rise and fall of action...there are always beasts...or demons...or great trials and tribulations that have to be overcome...and in true...un-sugarfied fashion...the stories most often end with the separation of siblings...partners...lovers...the tale expertly woven...entangles the unsuspecting reader...snaring them into returning again and again...just like an addictive substance hooks the user...causing them to return to use...again and again...hoping for that original high...

When I was 16...I met a boy...who changed me forever...I looked in his eyes...and I learned what being in love meant...What he made me feel...helped me recognize the man I did marry...granted the marriage ended...his choice... I could see love...when it stood in front of me...and I knew when it was gone...but...and there is always a but...I never stopped loving that first young man I fell in love with at 16...he is and always be my delicious drug...desire for him raced through my veins then...and it does now...what sweet sweet pleasure...and pain...

He's a man now...I'm a grown woman...and after 30 years...when I hear from him...open an email from him...see his picture...my heart skips a beat...adrenal rushes through my system...my eyes dilate...and I am back...over and over...just to experience that first high...I can't get enough of our tale...this boy and girl...who locked eyes and fell in love...only to be separated by the beast of burdens...inner demons that torment...and the trials of life...and in an un-sugarfied fashion...we are not together...and probably never will be...

I have tried...over and over...to change the plot...the story-line...The conflict has always been the same...and there is no resolution...at least not one I can see...yet I am obsessed...addicted...to him...to us...to what I wish things could be...As the hands on the clock of time spin...I have to wonder...is this clearly illogical desire...actually making me sick...and if it is...truly bad for me...is there a rehab...something or someone I can turn to edit out this part of my life...so that I can move on with my own story...because I feel as trapped in my fairy tale...as characters must feel in the pages of a book...Is there medicine I can take...or a clinic I can check into...or someone else's fable that I can focus on...because deep down...I know...I need to escape...

the heroin in my story...

A Beautiful Work of Art....

2013-08-31T15:09:00.000-07:00

Many years ago...I taught a class in stage make up...I had a knack for it...I had graduated from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts...and was accomplished at teaching others how to alter their appearance with techniques and tools...and...at the end of the term...I held a final exam...the students would choose a character in a play or creation...that they would turn themselves into...with their own skills and artistry...Their study and learned expertise revealed itself through the creative birth of animals...creatures...famous characters...one famous painting...a Picasso...titled "Reading"...

Now...I have never been a fan of Picasso...I never understood his view...of life...of love...of the world...all I could see were shapes...boxes...lines...and colors...When someone spoke of his work...I rolled my eyes...I have always loved Monet's mess...standing next to it...you see splotches...dots...vibrant colors...and as you retreat...pull back...the picture comes into focus...I can see his vision...

The young lady who created this...Picasso project...was a quiet girl...distant...body shy...not particularly stunning...somewhat unusual for the gregarious mix of personalities that are actors...or at least...aspiring entertainers...As she walked into the box theater that morning...she was silent...the other students jabbering away...laughing and discussing their excitement...and what was surely going to be the culmination of their success...All the while...she worked diligently...with her back to everyone...and I prepared for this...their final grade...

Each student stepped forward...during the last hour of class...brilliant work...hard work...depth of thought...and joy...encompassed these final presentations...raucous applause...whistles...group respect and thought...encircled the group...as they stepped forward to share themselves...

The last grade was left to be doled out...as the quiet young woman stepped forward...an awkward silence overtook the once loud audience...As I looked at the colors painted on her face...I shifted uncomfortably in my seat...I already felt embarrassed for her...and I contemplated how I would grade this...this...I just didn't know...

In these uncomfortable moments...she reached up...and unbuttoned her blouse...a murmur spread throughout the space...as she withdrew each arm from each delicate sleeve...and as the fabric fell around her waist...I saw it...for the first time...each breast washed with color...her belly lined and painted...and her trembling hands holding the book that completed the picture...She said nothing...and neither did we...It was as if I had never seen art before...she was the embodiment of someone's vision...and...at the same time...she was her own creation...Although she had matched herself to the Picasso portrait...with absolute perfection...she was a work of art...like no other...

Unlike the others in the room...myself included...she had never stood naked on stage...and here she was...in a way that I have never been...as she steadied herself...staring straight ahead...the composition of who she was...became crystal clear...and I was in awe...it was one of the most moving...and bravest...things I have ever seen...

I realized...in an instant...that we are all portraits...some of us are still lifes...some of us are impressionistic...some of us are a Jackson Pollack...just a mess that moves others...and...yes...Picassos too...but most of us remain buttoned up...covering all that is most beautiful about ourselves...We don't speak...when we should...and then emotionally vomit...when only silence is needed...We are perfect in our cubist imperfections...and up close we often look like a mass of colors and dots...and as a special person steps back...they see our complete picture...and if we ever have the courage to stand naked before the world...we are amazing...and explosion of light...and color...a vision beyond words...a gift that can silence the world...all it takes...is that moment of courage...when we allow all our trappings to fall away...and stare bravely ahead...

A beautiful work of art...

Moving On Sale...

2013-08-12T11:14:00.002-07:00

I am moving...again...I've never stopped...for a woman who has always wanted a home...I've never found one...and I hear you...what you are saying...home is within you...and you are right...Although...my legs are tired from moving...it's my back that is killing me...weighed down...from a lifetime of carrying everything with me...until now...I'm selling it all...someone else needs to own this...all of this...I can't...anymore...

FOR SALE...several chests...oiled and cared for...holds all of your memories...dreams...and hopes...plenty of room to layer years of wishes and attempts...old loves...old likes...remembrances that others have thrown away...achievements...trophies...and photos of those you've lost...what you thought your were...what you wanted to be...what you hid from everyone...what others thought they hid from you...everything you cannot let go of...

FOR SALE...dozens of paintings...framed...dust free...all the places you wish you had been...still life portraits...living objects that are frozen...easily moved from room to room...but paralyzed in one moment in time...unable to move on...fruit that will never be tasted...trees...whose branches will never sway in the wind...romances that never really existed...and a lonely woman...standing in a field...back turned to everyone...looking on...toward a long hard road that leads no where...

FOR SALE...boxes of clothing...beautiful...ornate...fabrics...that mimic the real thing...items to squeeze...cover up...distract eyes...to create an illusion...of being put together...of youth...of age...of knowledge...of wealth...of freedom...of creativity...of status...of not growing up without...of always belonging...of never sleeping in shelters...or cars...of being worthy of love...more than enough garments to cover yourself up and draw attention away from you...

FOR SALE...furniture...furniture...furniture...large heavy objects...that you can care for more than you care for yourself...pieces to cover the blankness that scares you...ideas that you can sit on...or lay down when trouble comes...or can hold your light for you...all objects can stand for you...on the legs that are as immovable as yours have been...and drawers to stuff...with everything that is normally scattered around for others to see...

FOR SALE...canning supplies...jar upon jar that you shove your creations into...pressure them to stay...and put them on a shelf...that you stare at...

FOR SALE...curtains...drapes for every window...so you can cover all the light...shut out the world...protect yourself from everyone on the outside...you can look at the beautiful colors...and the rest of the world will see blank canvas...assuming you aren't home...

FOR SALE...shoes...so many shoes...in almost mint condition...because...although you purchased them for walking...to adorn your feet...as they carried you to wondrous places...the soles are barely scuffed...because the carpet between your bedroom and the living room...protected them from damage...the damage that might occur...if you step outside and let life happen...

There are some many other items available to store...enclose...protect...cover...distract...and the initial cost is low...but the price you pay will be much higher over time...so don't wait...my doors are open...come and get it...I don't want it anymore...any of it...not one thing...I just want to walk away with myself...every part of me...it seems that all that I am...is not as heavy as what I've used to cover it up...It's time to walk light...I only have half my life left...

So...come on down...all this week...take it all...

Moving on sale...

Sleeping Through the Storm...

2013-08-10T14:40:00.001-07:00

I don't know if you have ever lived through a hurricane...it is a phenomenon the has to be experienced...to be truly respected...It builds strength...offshore...and appears to be just an obstacle...to those anticipating it's landing...It's winds can reach 100's of miles per hour...and lift a human off their feet...as well as trees...water...and buildings...Then just when you feel the greatest force...the eye of the storm crosses you and all is silent...no birds...no wind...no sound...bright light...peace...It is at that moment...that the fierce...backhand of the storm...reaches out and breaks everything left standing...What can withstand...the first half of the disaster...rarely is left in one piece...as the second half makes contact...

I was 21 when hurricane Hugo ravaged the Carolina coast...Living in South Carolina...where the eye of the storm crossed land...I was also in the first... of a long line of dysfunctional...abusive relationships. I had definitely been practicing at finding individuals...who would wreck my life...taking no prisoners...but...this was different...this was a real storm...destined to level everything...leave me homeless...out of work...destitute...and isolated...No...this was not a metaphor for my life...this was tangible...

My boyfriend's family...insisted...that we stay with them...their home was safe...it looked safe...secure...It was brick...strong foundation...great expanses of space...yes...this would be a wise choice...to keep he and I in one piece...and his family would support us...protect us from this natural disaster...I would leave this in their capable hands...

As we settled in...he and I...the winds began to swirl...hurling their sarcasm...with the tree branches...and the debris of broken dreams...I looked out my window and saw the impending doom...and grew sleepy...very sleepy...My eyelids began to droop...fluttering shut...drawing me deep into the belly of his family...I was hypnotized by the screams and violence around me...lulled and rocked by the crashing and crunching...the howling and searing tears falling from the sky...soon...my eyes closed...I slept deeply...and long...just like the long naps of my childhood...

When my eyes opened...to the bright morning...and scattered wreckage...devastation...I heard...in the distance...She is an odd one...quite weird...I've never known anyone to sleep through something like this...Ah...Mom...she's an idiot...Yes...I guess you are right...It was confirmed...without my voice...that I lacked the skill...or the will...to remain awake...watchful...alert...to impending danger...and unable to protect myself...

Years...a lifetime of cruel...cruel storms...I slept through...pulled deep...into a personal coma...waking only after the wreckage laid...at my feet...I often tried to force myself awake...maintain open eyes...and yet...I still walked...as if in a dream...into the jaws of hurricanes...whipped and bruised...I would gather myself together...gently picking up the pieces that I could find...Each time...I moved on...with some tiny element of my being missing...I almost disappeared...until the day that I didn't...

I stumbled...I fell over...I crawled...I dragged myself out...away from the craziness...the violence...and I didn't trust the eye of the storm...I remained awake...I knew it would end.. but...the next time...I would head the other direction...away...to real safety...maybe...not to return to the same spot...able to admit that sometimes...it's time to leave...with dignity intact...

It's odd...now...that there was a time I could sleep for hours...for days...Those days are gone...I find that I sleep little...and do more...taking small cat naps in between tasks...They say...there is no rest for the weary...I don't believe that's true...when we are weary in spirit...that is often when we sleep the most...and should be sleeping the least...During a hurricane...it is the weakest...most complacent trees that go first...quickly...and the deeply rooted...alert ones can survive...what they can't run from...It seems to me that I've slumbered enough for two lifetimes...Maybe...it's more important that I remain awake...vigilant...and no more...

Sleeping through the storm...

If I Never had Lost...

2013-08-07T09:55:00.001-07:00

This past year...I have been quiet...much of my time...In my blog...posts have been minimal...professionally...my voice has been muted...by others and myself...by conditions...beyond my control...I have felt stifled...gagged...suppressed...and oddly...oppressed...and so...the result...is the inability to speak...and so...I feel silent...I empowered others to speak...my students...my friends...but my voice...I allowed to be strangled...and so I lost...everything...

My childhood into adulthood was my training ground for silencing my own voice...by the request...and for the needs of others...You would think that I would have learned...to stop loving...to stop believing...but I didn't...I saw each situation as a new one...somehow different than all the others...and that now my silence would be most appropriate...and each time...I lost...everything...

Losing everything is a skill that I have developed over a lifetime...refined and perfected...to that point that I can be in the midst of losing everything...and all those around me...are completely unaware of the mass exodus of my acquisitions...physical and emotional...and as I have watched the doors fly open...once again...and a great tornado pulls seemingly everything I own away...to a great spinning core...where all becomes the splintered remnants of my...yet...greatest attempt...just as I shake hands...once again...to loss...in this most vulnerable moment...I realize the truth...loss means nothing to me...except...for the loss of the ability to love...to believe...

I believe that the day I stop believing...stop loving...I will die...I will be come one of the walking dead...an empty shell...truly alone...Others can take...and take...I can be stripped naked...strangled...muzzled...battered...but no one can take...my ability to love...to believe...I have to give that up myself...and if I did...what would be left...

Many would say...that I have experienced enough...that my willingness to risk everything...to leap...eyes wide open...into abyss...after abyss...believing that there is something for me when I land...that this is inappropriate...that I am inappropriate...and enough is enough...and my response is...who are we to say what is enough...the only way to know if something is meant to be yours...is to risk losing it...or risk having it...

Many would say...this is not for everyone...and I say...why not...is it not our gift to ourselves to try many...many things...knowing that only a precious few...will remain in our lives...the rest we will let go...or have them ripped from our fingers...and that this fierce loss is what saves us from losing ourselves...the universe protecting us...clearing the deck...for that next great thing...those faces...those lives...those moments...that life free of regret...that wisdom gained...the new beginning...again...

So...let the winds rise....let the oceans crash...let the fires burn away all that I own...let others deny me...let my back feel that I can take no more...I spread my arms wide...so that my heart is open...exposed...so that all can see my frailties...and my strengths...so that any enemy of living...can shoot arrows at my spirit...for I will not die...I will not die...until I decide...and although my dignity may be dirtied and bruised...I will love again...I will believe...and how do I know this...because...I have done this so many times...I have lived...and will continue...and I could never have done this...

If I never had lost...