My so-called love life

An end and a beginning

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Sun, 13 Jun 2010 11:09:00 +0000

This will be my last post on this blog. I know this story continues, but a new chapter has started and it’s time to archive these thoughts for a time in which I need to remember the journey that brought me to this point in life and love.

I started this blog when I made a break from serial monogamy and attempted to get out and understand what dating and courtship was all about. I think I failed for the most part until just recently. I fell into crushes, into intense friendships that held the promise for so much more but never delivered, into quick-fix high-chemistry hook-ups that most times turned into something more than they should have been. All this in search of a partner, a companion, and an ever-further and more and more unbelievable idea of a man that blended all the pieces I’d found in separate people up until that point. In recent years I know I stopped believing he existed. I stuck to my pattern of picking people for a certain beautiful quality they put forth, be it patience or compassion or simply the sort of hug that made me feel everything would be o.k. But I held back the core pieces of my heart, my deep desire to find a partner who shared my faith, my desperate wish to find someone who I admired but wasn’t intimidated by, who had ambition but little ego, who saw the world and sought to serve it as I try to. And in the process, I let go of romance. I stopped being excited by little favors for someone dear or being touched by a song that so perfectly captures love at its best. And I stopped writing here, because all the little jaunts and dates and back and forth started to seem so silly if they weren’t leading up to something real.

And then of course, I found him. And he may not be the one – it’s still early after all. But the promise of all these things I had let go of as they replace themselves in my life so effortlessly – mix tapes and love letters and care packages and sweet texts with no fear of overstepping boundaries or being the only one that is this excited. It’s all come rushing back, but in such new, vibrant colors that I find myself literally doing a happy dance, or smiling widely to myself at odd moments, or simply unable to calm my rushing heart before I sleep. I find myself immersed in innocence and honesty that I was sure couldn’t exist in a relationship starting just as I entered my 4^th decade on this earth. And this person, this unbelievably radiant person is a cliché to the max in that he is everything I ever wanted, period. Every bit of strength alongside humility, music without pretence, family with depth and imperfection, travel for the sake of knowing a place, service for the sake of returning the most glorious gift we know we have received, justice and equality for all, honesty, openness and more to be discovered each day. It is almost too much for me to possibly believe I could deserve it, or command a return interest. And yet I do, and that is a reflection in part of growth and the product of experience. But I think it is more about grace, about understanding what love is and can really be, of making peace with not being the one in control. Because once I passed the innocence and beautiful awkwardness of first loves I entered a long period of logic as I tried to control my heart, tried to mature enough to steer it wisely, to learn from my past, to not lead myself or others astray.

Now I know that with love logic can be cast aside – not as a brash conceit to potential but with the knowledge that if you let it guide your search it shows you’re not yet ready to find what you have always hoped existed and have finally grown into.

For memory's sake...

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 17:22:00 +0000

My cousin stumbled upon this note I left her in January of 2007, the night I met the french man. She send it with giggles via email today. Coincidentally, I also heard from the french man today with an update on his life and his new love. It's been almost two years since we met, and in so many ways our relationship was the last time I had that feeling of knowing, of certainty. It didn't last - but I remember it so fondly, and it will forever be one of the great romances of my life. And it all started with big blue eyes catching mine and a night that began with this note slipped under a hotel door in the wee hours of the morning.

(written in lip liner on stationary from the U.S. Grant Hotel, unfortunately can't get the attachment to load...)

"Your crazy cousin went to gallavant about w/ a dashing young frenchman. Back at 8:30.
-meg"

And here we are.

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 04:31:00 +0000

I tend to think I'm good at analyzing other people - why they are how they are and why they make the choices they make. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm very good at doing this for myself. Maybe at one point I was, but lately it seems like every discovery I make about myself has no valid explanation behind it. Suddenly I feel too old to be dealing with my weaknesses - that to succumb to frustration or fatigue is just immature. That it doesn't honor the path I've been taking in recent years to confront moments of total lonliness, fear or abject confusion. It always passes, but in the midst of it I try briefly (before running full steam in the opposite direction, towards the beacon of hope that is day to day bliss) to figure out why it's so easy for me to return to my pitfalls if even the littlest confrontation comes up.

funny that

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 20:32:00 +0000

I find it strange that in the midst of doing exactly what your heart has always desired to do, or that which puts you right where you are often at your best - you are forced to confront your greatest faults. I guess it makes sense - what good would success or growth be if they didn't force you to take into account your shortcomings (and dare you dream, overcome them?) along the way? But that's the thing about true flaws - when you gather the rare courage to acknowledge them, it's almost inconceivable that they could ever be overcome - they're just so daunting. So you put them out of your mind to get through your day, until one day there they are bright and smiling on your doorstep - the only things that stand between you and the rest of your life.

Sweet Loki

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 00:45:00 +0000

Loki was not a dog, he was a presence. A massive body of long fur and drooly lips, he could always find his place in the middle of his people. Like his mama he never joined our family - he simply claimed the spot that we now realize was waiting for him all the time. And as we went about our lives and celebrations he was there, laying amongst our feet, picking up the tasty morsels we dropped as we prepared dinner, letting one of the kids stick their finger in his eye - because for Loki, "everything was love."

He was the first son in his family - he taught his parents to be both patient and proud, basked in their togetherness and shared their affection. When Dexter arrived he knew life was different, but he wasn't - and thus he stood by through sleepless nights, watched over the Speedy Gonzalez of growing babies with his own sense of pride (and occasionally became your every-day dog who barks in the middle of the night and wakes the baby).

Perhaps his only true claim to his namesake (the Norse god of mischief), was his ability to become something other than what he seemed. For this was not just a dog at your feet, nor a pet. This was man's best friend, and for his perfect portrayal of this role - he will be missed.

Where I've gone

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 14:45:00 +0000

Hi there, you can find me here now mostly. Separate blog world, hope you'll visit!

Recovery

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 23:58:00 +0000

Late last summer, in an untimely reminder of my lack of computer savvy, I crashed my old hard drive. It's horrifying when you realize how much of your life has been locked up inside what you thought to be an impenetrable metal box, and even moreso when you realize how simple it is to prevent such implosions of data-drowned micro-chips. Licking my wounds I found solace in my shiny and new Macbook Pro, and set aside my old computer (lovingly referred to as the behemoth) for a time in which I had 2 grand to direct to the pockets of the most deserving of computer geeks who recover lost data.

My life and luck being charmed as it is, just such a guy showed up in my living room a few weeks ago to address my very cracked blackberry pearl (let's hope my life has more resilience than the electronics that manage it) and I feebly mentioned my forlorn and dusty old lap top.

"Let me see it," he commanded - a wry smile alluding to the immense pleasure he clearly found in taking on seemingly impossible electronic tasks. I handed it over, admonishing him (and doing my best to keep my hopes at bay) that the 14-year old in charge of the service shop last year hadn't even been able to get it to boot. Of course before he could tell me that I was well under the spell of the Macbook Pro's brushed finish, practical weightlessness and sleek profile. Still, being reprimanded by a guy nearly half my age (and likely making twice my salary) for ignoring the flashing lights of "YOUR HARD DRIVE IS READY TO SELF-DESTRUCT" had left it's mark, and I didn't want my friend to be overly optimistic.

I unpacked the behemoth, handed it to my friend and tottered off to admire my new blackberry face plate (it had been cracked since I dropped it in gravel on day 2 of ownership). He plugged it in and on came the lights and the flashes I'd done my best to forget - the bright blue reminder that where my writing and pictures and years of data had once been, was now the simplest of color schemes and a screen that looked just like the first word processors we used in middle school.

But...my friend's face lit up - and even I had to admit that upon last plug in it hadn't even booted, so this could be progress. He quickly pocketed the hard drive, headed home to his motherboard and promised to call with what he was sure would be a full recovery of my data.

OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY!

Words cannot express. Not only did he recover it - but in the exact same form I left it. No scrambling, nothing missing - just files and files of years and years of ponderings, papers and most importantly, photos. Trips and family and holidays and friends - all back, safe and sound, on the shiny screen of my Macbook Pro. Oh, and my new external hard drive.

changing it up

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 04:58:00 +0000

Man, I look at my blog archives and I really used to write here. Oh, how I miss that! I don't know what it is about this year that writing has not been the medium with which I pour forth all that's been swirling around inside. I've tried not to be too hard on myself, but at the same time I know that writing is a discipline, and all the various benefits (the catharsis, the processing, the support from those who choose to read your words) are the result of such work. Perhaps it's that I'm not ready to process it all, that this year has been about reaching out and identifying the tools I'll need to work through it, when I'm ready. It's definitely involved a fair amount of holding others up in their times of struggle - perhaps the best therapy there can be when you're in the midst of your own.

I have been doing a lot of writing in my head - especially in preparation for my departure for Kenya (mid September!) and will get a new blog to chronicle that experience up soon. I know that I will need to write about this. I pray that I'll have the stamina to process it all on the page - because it is by far the biggest thing I've done yet (and the scariest, and most exciting!). I want to be present in the whole experience, and I know writing will be key.

I have found my voice off the page in a more literal sense this year, and after sending a pretty lame garage band recording (voice/guitar only) of a Coldplay song to some friends, my dear friend Phil returned the following to me. Since I've offered so little by way of words on the page lately, here's a bit of my actual voice. Thanks to those of you who still visit this space, share your own words and are keeping your stories going on your own blogs. I treasure this community and look forward to sharing my next steps with you!

boomp3.com

overflow

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 06:16:00 +0000

I was sitting at dinner tonight having a heavy discussion with my dad when I was struck with an image. I saw a delicate pottery bowl with a beautiful glaze reminiscent of a blue tile-bottomed pool. In the bowl, which was deeper than a normal bowl, was crystal clear water. If the bowl was set down and still, the reflection from the glaze would make it hard to see the liquid therein - it would be just one fluid piece of mass. But if you were to pick up the bowl and try to walk with it, the water would start to move around the interior, banking against its perfectly smooth sides, gaining momentum with each step as it would slosh forward, then back, then forward again. At any moment it would threaten to break over the side of the dish, to make its presence known on the ground or surroundings outside of the glazed haven it comes from.

How then to keep such liquid still? How then to prepare the world for its inevitable overflow? How then to prepare yourself?

grace and glory

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 07:24:00 +0000

You're in the midst of moments full of fear,
the unknown looms in a way you never imagined you'd be afraid of.

The necessity of leaving, of stepping away from the first real comfort you can remember.
The special moments you know you'll miss - the distance you're departure is sure to create.

These thoughts weigh heavy on your heart, your eyes droop with the tears of saying goodbye, even though goodbye is weeks, neigh months, away.

It's all in preparation, all in advance notice, all in protection of your fragile heart.

How to leave those you love, and who love you the most?

Then it hits you - the glorious reality of it all. You are loved! You are surrounded by those whose lives matter to you, whose joy matters to you. Distance means nothing in relation to this.

And as your adventure opens up before you, you are struck with the sheer magnitude of it all. How is it that you should be fortunate enough to be walking into the life you are about to take on?

There are no words, there is nothing that can capture the enormity of having turned dreams into reality.

But knowing you go with the wings of those you love behind you, this is the most glorious thing of all.

temporary

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 08:26:00 +0000

these walls carry the proof of where I've been
joined together by a door added after the fact
I had a vision of what it would look like so many months ago
And now here I sit, the lines in rust and green,
ready to let it go

So much of my life this year has been temporary
A stop for a moment before stepping into the unknown
Surrounding myself with those I love the most
But in the end having to move away,
I can't imagine the day

When these walls cease to bear where I've been
When they're blank or covered up with someone else's things
To drive away with the burden of past and the blank slate of tomorrow
with my life staying here, while I go there

In the end I know the truth isn't temporary
Its veins run deep in the lives of those I love
No matter where I go there is home in each of them
Only this I know, only this I know

need

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 17:40:00 +0000

I wrote the following post yesterday. It was one of those days where I cried big sloppy tears for feelings I couldn't ignore one minute longer. In the morning I cried silently, working away at my desk, and felt better by the afternoon. Last night, I cried loudly, I gave myself permission to really grieve for all these things that have happened in the last year - both my own experiences and those I have born witness to both here and abroad. Today I feel so much better - but I'm giving myself permission to post about the reality of yesterday as a tribute to the 2 year anniversary of this blog. Many people don't understand blogging - they don't get baring your soul to strangers (or loved ones who might read, for that matter). I can't say I totally understand it either. I don't even know who reads this anymore that I might censor my words for if I realized they'd see them. The point is, I'm making peace with my yesterdays, with letting them be, on the page. Two years of yesterdays marked today. It's been a blessing, to say the least.

June 2, 2008
I have far more love in my life than many people I'm sure (and if ever there were cause to quantify, I'm sure far less than others). The point is that it's there, it's present in family and friends and the romantic affection of a few - more than I recognize and certainly more than I know how to draw on when I need it most.

This past year has, in many ways, kicked my heart's ass. As above, I feel I have to post the necessary disclaimer: it has been kicked far less than many others. The pain I know pales in comparison to many, it would be disrespectful to compare it to the loss and the grief that others have experienced in their own hurts. But to me it is real, it is pronounced, it is disorienting. It has bubbled up in a redefinition of family, first by those around me, and then by myself as I tried to make sense of an absolutely new familial landscape. It has been in once again having fallen in love, and then, with an explanation that feels far from valid or to reflect the strength of the love I hope to give and someday receive, having fallen out of it. It has been in the wanting to turn to my pillars of strength during these times, and seeing them withered in the paralysis of their own hurts and life's challenges. It is the ultimate feeling of at times being without the strength of the most important ties of a lover/partner and family.

So I've looked elsewhere for comfort, sometimes demanding it from those who have no responsibility to provide it, or else taking it in bits and pieces, knowing full well the temporary security such offerings provide. Such things, invariably, come to an end. What remains amidst the fractured ties, the mini-flings, the hot-prospect projects, is friendship. There is no lack of wealth therein. And yet in my attempts to escape my grief, I have called on my friends almost exclusively for fun and light heartedness - for small adventures and days of laughing till my stomach aches, rather than the assuredness I desperately seek that if and when the shit hits the fan, I won't be alone. I have rarely let myself cry to them, or even in front of them, the shame of such fractures somehow too great to let the cat out of the bag. Of all my flaws, I think this is perhaps the worst - to not be able to let your guard down to those who have the strength, love and the confidence in you when you need it most.

the little things

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Tue, 27 May 2008 20:12:00 +0000

A friend returned from Hawaii last week and brought me an assortment of my favorite pikake scented lotions and body oils. I dabbed a bit of the perfume oil on each wrist this morning and every time I answer the phone I catch the faint scent of the islands in summer. It's such a simple thing, and yet it reminds me of those moments in which you find yourself on a beach in the evening, nothing but stars above and waves in front, and you marvel that somehow you ended up in this perfect piece of the world. I've had those moments, I'll have more and sometimes I just need a little reminder.

not knowing the next

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Fri, 23 May 2008 00:33:00 +0000

Twenty eight appears to be the year when adulthood takes its firmest hold yet. Sure, you've supported yourself for a number of years, you've made some big steps, you've been to a few weddings etc. But now your peers are having babies, and people's master's degrees and law degree's have some dust on their frames already. You're actually in this thing called "grown up." I think I'm mostly o.k. with this, especially since I'm finally taking some steps toward living a grown up life I can be comfortable in, but it never ceases to amaze me how little I really expect from it all. I look at friends and family who are having babies, and there's this sense of just knowing that this was what this stage in life called for. No question - this is the time, this is what is meant to be done. I have such a hard time relating, because when I look at my future I don't have any must-be-dones or this-will-be-the-times. I can't imagine being pregnant, don't know when that fits into my life, or if it does at all. I can't imagine running a household, or having enough money to fill one with real furniture. I live my life in the context of an individual, a shared home with only a room to fill and a single meal to prepare at the end of the evening (unless I'm cooking for my roommate too, of course).

It's not that I'm worried about this - I'm really not. It's just that it seems so different than so many people who have this clear progression of what life looks like in their heads. College, grad-school, marriage, kids, move, buy house, buy new car, take big trip, get promoted, buy new house etc. etc. etc. I just don't see any of it. I just keep making decisions as they are presented, doing my best to stay in tune with a gut-feeling of what is right for me and what is not, and trying to trust that there's a direction to it all. In my brief meeting with a career counselor I can't afford, I told her about the steps I've taken career wise, and she asked me how much money I'd like to ultimately make. ?????? Haven't given it a second thought. Would like to make more than I do now, that's for sure, but I don't really think about what a future income could mean other than knowing I want to be able to give my hypothetical kids the same opportunities that I've had. Given that this seems 99% impossible with the way of the economy and cost of living, I kind of just push the whole thing from my head and go back to my happy place of "follow your gut and it all works out."

I think to a certain extent I'm taking the same approach to love. I have a vague idea of what Mr. Right might be like, but no real concrete vision. So I base my attraction and interactions with men on the moment - is it there, or is it not? Can we laugh together right now? Do I want him to hold my hand, or more? Instant connections are nice and all - but it seems so shallow in the scheme of things. Wouldn't some sort of expectation be a better bet? And you know what? I'm not even talking about a vision of the person, but the vision of the life as a whole - it's just so damn vague. I don't really know what type of a relationship I aspire to because I can't really imagine myself in one. I don't know where I want to live because I can't really imagine a job that I will do that I might find in said place. I can't really imagine a job I might do because I have yet to find one that didn't make me want to shoot myself well over half the time.

So I plod "forward" but where am I going?

It's strange to be more or less at peace with who I am right now, but to have moments where I almost completely can discredit my entire thought process solely by looking at what others are doing and how much more they seem to have figured out than I do. Though if I'm honest with myself, it's not really about figuring anything out - it's about a sense of peace or understanding that some seem to either have, or don't. And I don't want to dismiss what they have figured out to make my path seem more mighty or prudent - just as I don't want to dismiss myself entirely in order to acknowledge their contentment with their own lives.

It's a funny and fine line, one that wandered a bit throughout this post but leaves me with plenty of food for thought.

just an ordinary day

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Tue, 20 May 2008 20:16:00 +0000

...Dexter asking about me before his nap, my mom flying to Russia to move my brother and his family home after 15 years, my dad calling to confirm plans a few weeks down the road that will take me back to my musical roots, a new friend whose divorce just finalized, a visitor from England, an email (finally) from Kenya, a friend with a new spot post cancer that needs a biopsy, seeing a dear friend prove that Hollywood can make dreams come true, climbing tonight, the eternal to-do and stopping midpoint to wonder at it all...

oh happy day

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Thu, 15 May 2008 22:43:00 +0000

So since I seem to be sticking to the blogging habit of 'only write when you're exceptionally blue or anxious' lately, I thought I'd throw out a sunshine post, just to mix things up! This gorgeous, camera-phone captured plate was my lunch today, as my roommate (the vegan chef) brought a lovely meal to our work place today. Under my new favorite greens (mache, I adore thee), is a large samosa with a potato, pea and cumin filling. This lays atop a chick pea curry, with a side of coconut milk, cilantro and lime juice chutney. There is some spicy/salty pickling spices sprinkled for garnish, which led to me understanding for the first time why Indian food is so spicy. Because...hot stuff makes you sweat! And when it's hot, sweat can cool you off! And guess what folks, it's 93 degrees out, so bring on the sweat!

Apologies I don't have a picture of our dessert - homemade spiced tapioca and ginger orange sorbet with candied kaffir lime pieces on top.

Today, it doesn't even remotely suck to be me!

this post is bananas

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Fri, 09 May 2008 20:15:00 +0000

Instead of posting the incredibly depressing and sulky post I stashed away in my draft folder yesterday (next to many, many more of the same billing), I decided to ponder some potential messages the universe seems to be sending me in the last few days. First off, I've been absolutely swamped with worry about career path and fear that I'm just so far off where I'm meant to be, that I might have missed my chance to do something incredible (or at least...interesting). Everywhere I turn I see someone with a fascinating job - sure, it might not be a good fit for me - but I see why it's a fit for them, and the work it took them to get there, and the sweet relief of a life well-lived playing out in their daily actions (while I stagnate at my computer, furiously resenting any and everyone who hasn't consigned themselves to a similar fate). And with every great green venture I encounter (with happy little workers behind it's growing success), I think of when I was a happy little do-gooder myself, with aspirations to start organizations, go abroad and take some risks. Yes, I am making good on a few of these things in short order, but in such a whack order and time table I've lost site of the straight energy and drive that I feel necessary to make them work. So, though there is a light at the end of this relative pit-stop of stagnation's tunnel, the downtime is taking a terrible toll on my confidence that when I get to that light, I'll be able to get back into the right mode to make it work.

Back when I graduated from college and was fresh off my senior project and volunteer work focusing on the banana plantations in Costa Rica, I believed I could do what I was setting out to do. I didn't question I could make it happen, that my career would be great in some way - whether by impact, or experience, or ideally - both. But then I started on a path of gaining experience as it was presented to me - taking advantage of opportunities that were for all extents and purposes great, because they were there for the taking. And a few years went by, and some learning happened, and some jaded happened, and some energy was expelled while my path looped and twisted and gradually made itself known to me again. So I took some flying leaps to grab onto it, trying to forgive myself for taking so long to do so and see the value in the experiences I'd had and gained while meandering for a bit. But now, even as I wait for the next steps to swing into high gear, I see all these people around me whose paths were a little straighter and more direct, and they're just in a better space emotionally than I appear to be. So I've been trying to learn from them, and cut out the bullshit that always gets in my way, even when I appear to be headed in the right direction.

A few weeks ago my sister-in-law sent me a link to this book. It brought back all sorts of memories about the time in which bananas were a big part of my focus, and how in studying their production my eyes opened to a whole host of world and consumer issues that I internalized and remain with me to this day. I intended to build a career around them - and I'm finally starting to do so with my studies this fall, but it's taken so much longer than I thought. Back then I had business ideas, ideas that I know now were just a smidge ahead of their time, but had they been acted on, would be playing to full effect in today's market and consumer arena. Then a few days ago Shauna had a post about this the most phallic of fruits, and my ears started twitching once again. Later that same night I was indulging in live t.v. at the penthouse I house sit at sometimes, and caught a Disney kids segment on...wait for it...bananas. I mean, since when are bananas fodder for quality prime time children's entertainment?

My world is suddenly raining bananas, and I can't tell what the message is. For me, bananas are in someway where it all started. But in this year of waiting for a scholarship which will finally allow me to pursue the path they put me on, I am more and more worried that somehow the past few years and a host of bad habits might interfere with the potential first laid out. I see all these people who seem to have already made their mark and created something amazing. True visionaries who don't seem to have put up with years staring at a computer screen letting their brain atrophy. So, are all these signs just a reminder to finish what I started, to trust the path and finally, make it happen?

I need to know I'm not past my prime. I need to know that I can be about action, not just ideas and a convoluted path in the hopes of one day making something good come of all my passion.

the heart hurts

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Fri, 02 May 2008 07:11:00 +0000

I am never more present in my life than when I am in love. It's as if the tendrils of truth that make up my person unfurl one by one as I meet and fall for someone new. Lately, however, I have begun to question these most cherished moments of falling. I've started to tell myself that they were not the real deal, that I will know it when I see it but I couldn't possibly be where I am today, more or less alone, if they were in fact real...for what type of person would have let them go? I dwell on this more than I should.

Still, while romantic love continues to befuddle me in its complex application in my life (I swear, this blog hasn't even scratched the surface of the crazy that is me and men), I will say I am learning more about love amongst friends and family these days than I'm sure I ever have. Perhaps learning is too strong of a word - that would imply I've come to an understanding about it all. An understanding beyond the necessity for constant grace, openness, honesty and from time to time complete and utter humility in order to truly love, and be loved by, those around you. I would like to say that I work on this daily, but I'm not sure I'm at a place with myself where I can truly offer this to those I love. I do know I try. I try so hard when confronted with someone else's pain or struggle. The compassion switch in me electrifies and I pull out each and every experience and understanding I can provide in the desperate hopes of alleviating the heartache. If I could paint a picture, it would show me literally taking a scoop out of my heart and presenting it, palms open, to whoever it is that I love so dearly allowing me to bear witness to their brokenness.

But can I ever really bear witness when I am so very bad at showing my own brokenness? I can remember only a handful of times when I allowed myself to truly wilt in the trust of someone who loves me, pushing aside my assumption of their judgment or pity long enough to bask in their compassion and grace. It is a fine line to let those whose opinions mean the most to you catch you when crumble. But I know now that this is the essence of love. And I would never hold it against someone I love that they from time to time fall apart - it makes them more human and radiant and dear, if anything.

I don't know how this ties in to the beginning of this post. Perhaps my detachment from romantic love stems from my need to more fully understand the fundamentals of love as a whole. Thank God for the gracious beings sharing their stories around me as I take a temporary hiatus from my own heart. I'll get back to it someday, I'm sure.

extreme highs...

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 22:23:00 +0000

...are always followed by extreme lows in my life. So right now, I'm caught up in a sashay of emotional dodging - avoiding the things I just don't have the strength to deal with. Instead, I'm shopping like crazy - not spending much money, but indulging in the high of amazing deals and the immediate gratification that accompanies them. I'm starting new things, but not following through on those that preceded. I'm surfing the web, but not catching up on emails. I'm providing physical comfort, but no emotional attachment. There is joy interwoven throughout in the depth of friendships and relationships that weather whatever highs or lows I experience. But in general, I think I'm coming to terms with being a bit more on "hold" than I'd like to be. Hmm.

as she ponders

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 19:01:00 +0000

"I think I met you at the wrong time, Megan. I knew what you were when I first saw you, but I didn’t know what to do about it. And anyway, you weren’t ready for me."

My best friend from my freshman year of college started his most recent email to me that way. The statement preceded a lengthy (and darling) introduction as to his fiance - namely the quirks that he adores and has committed to spend his life with. I was, of course, still stuck on that first paragraph. What does that mean, "I knew what you were when I first saw you?" My last email to him had been a whirlwind catch up on my life and romances - in a word, chaos - and I think he meant it to be grounding. And it is, I suppose, the idea that someone could know you so well so early - because he did.

He was the kind of friend that could calm whatever storm I drudged up. While others put on literal pounds with the freshman fifteen, I put on emotional weight that first year of college. I ended my high school relationship, bounced around as the bell of the (later determined to-be) mostly gay conducting ball, was charmed by a less-than-honest Canadian, entered my second cycle of clinical depression, nearly failed my first and last college math class and somehow came out on the other side with a rocker boyfriend who adored C.S. Lewis as much as I did, and made up for all the flailing I'd done throughout the year.

But my best friend, well he'd expected to be the knight at the end of that tunnel of a year, and while he managed fine seeing me flip flop about throughout - he knew the real deal when he saw it in the end. When my relationship started, he took his distance and I'd say our recent string of emails is the closest we've been to the magic of that friendship since.

He no longer needs me to be anything beyond the simplicity of the person he knew and recognized so early on. I need more than anything to be recognized as that very girl, because I'm still not ready for "him," whoever "he" might be, though I'm inching closer, every day. It's damn refreshing and delightful, to say the least.

some things never change

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 06:01:00 +0000

In the midst of putting together my formal application for school in Kenya (I have a scholarship, but must now gain admittance to the grad program), I came across the following in a past reference from a college professor:

"We’ve spent many hours in my office discussing both the state of the universe and the thesis of her papers. She has so many good ideas that sometimes she has difficulty settling on one. In other words, she has excellent academic ability and creativity, but still needs to work on organization, and mostly, on her confidence in herself. Her confidence in her paper-writing ability has grown, but she’s not quite there yet. She’s good but she doesn’t always believe it."

"...she has excellent academic ability and creativity, but still needs to work on organization..." I feel like this summarizes my entire life, in one succinct little nutshell. Oh, and confidence, don't get me started.

on gained awareness

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 20:23:00 +0000

Say, for example, you're holding your nephew as you get him ready for bed. You're in the kitchen, the electric kettle is on, the glass bottle in hand ready to warm it up. You're walking between the sink and the fridge, talking to him, giving him a heads up that it's almost time for bed...we're going to sing some songs, have a bottle and call it a night (he likes to be prepared). Say that in the midst of this activity you surreptitiously pass a little gas, assuming that it will be lost in the shuffle and heck, he's only 19 months old, how big of a deal might that be?

A noticeable one, to be sure.

life is good

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 23:10:00 +0000

On tonight's menu:

Artisan cheeses with truffle infused honey and a balsamic fig reduction
Citrus and Avocado Arugala Salad
Fresh blue cheese and potato gnocchi
Creme puffs with fresh strawberry filling

Oh, and copious amounts of wine.

my math is all wrong

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Fri, 21 Mar 2008 16:29:00 +0000

Last night we went to Millenium in the city for a glorious round of vegan delights, organic wine and muddled mint cocktails in celebration of my mom's 65 years on this planet. A smorgasbord of indulgence - from the chantrelle fois gras to the chocolate stout ice cream, DO NOT MISS THIS RESTAURANT when you next venture to SF (ooh, and take me). My mom was delighted, and one of my dearest friends wrote her an outstanding poem celebrating all the things that make her wonderful - and thankfully, the funny parts didn't result in her peeing her pants with laughter.

Afterwards, the younger generation went on for drinks at a speak easy down the street, where the pomegranate martinis sent me over the edge. And by over the edge I mean pulling a Vanna White on the floor to ceiling bookcase that turned out to be filled with real, authentic books. Imagine! I was suddenly fascinated with calculus - and did my best encourage all the young SF-ites around me that calculus really is a lost art form. Or maybe I just regaled them with how I got a D- in it my freshman year of college, which was technically a passing grade, and thus I haven't had a thing to do with it since.*

On the way home I cranked up the Britney (I make no apologies, Gimme More has the best beat I know for the ride home car party) and made my roommate take us to Blondie's for pizza. Then I crawled into bed and marveled at how my room suddenly looked like I wasn't the only one getting into my bed (clothes and shoes strewn about) and prayed that I wouldn't still be tipsy in the morning.

I am.

*And by "calculus" I really mean "pre-calculus." Lame!

absence

noreply@blogger.com (Mood Indigo) — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 23:03:00 +0000

You should see my draft folder. Or the scraps of paper throughout my purse. Or the notebook in which I'm attempting to keep a running to-do list. For, in all, you'd find writing - and good, insightful writing at that. Somehow, it just doesn't make it to this here blog. I'm sorry for that. The truth is, if I take things back to the origins of this blog - to dating, the quest for love and figuring out all things related to the heart - well, I have more to write about now than ever. This might sound silly, but I literally have guys (o.k., graceful woman, perhaps I should call them MEN) coming out of my ears. From a long-term friend who still holds out hope, to a more casual friend whose hints about me being the "perfect woman" are getting more and more frequent, to the Frenchman and of course the more local beau (currently avoiding me following the Frenchman's visit), to a friend in Kenya who flirts over gmail about my impending move to Nairobi, and the new arrival of the most charming (but younger!) man I've ever met - I'm having trouble making sense of it all.

So you'd think I would be writing about it, for this is where all the emotion and angst of such things usually spills forth. Perhaps it's that nothing about all of this feels 'so-called' anymore, it all seems very, very real. The opportunities, the attention - the possibilities for heart ache (and not just my own), the variety! And more than that, the change in my perspective as more and more of my friends couple up - in good, healthy couplings at that, and I start to see how important it is to make good choices in who you "settle" down with (ha!). Still, If the universe is telling me anything amidst all this attention, I'd have to say it is to look at things in any way but in terms of settling, but to instead take advantage of the opportunity to get to know people and evaluate how I react to certain attention, with whom do I feel most at ease, most myself? Who is inspiring? Who is intimidating? To who (whom?) can I return the same level of affection being offered? It is hard to look at people and relationships for such pure educational gain - but given my impending departure for far off lands, settling down with anyone right now makes little to no sense (though no, that doesn't mean I'm counting anyone out!).

So I'll keep meandering through, enjoying the flattery of various suitors, and hopefully coming up with something to share while I attempt to not be so hard on myself for allowing the attention. I do have a sense that it's all a part of the journey that ends with me and my heart being ready to ultimately take that leap and focus on one person that I will invite into my life and the path I'm on. I know deep down this is what I want, but I kid you not in recent years there have been moments when it has been the most terrifying of prospects. I think I'm gradually growing out of that commitment phobia, but I suppose it never hurts to go out with a bang (and let's not take that out of context, shall we?).