Thursday, May 31, 2012

Floating Thoughts

I don’t feel a connection to writing these days though I think of it daily, as I always have. It is a stranger, as so much of my life feels like currently. Even writing this feels like sitting with an old friend who I haven’t spoke to in a while. We are both blowing on our coffee hoping for things to cool down, hoping for the moment to swirl up beautifully like the steam from our cups.  

I want to write about the overwhelming feeling of inability I am having these days. Of the craving for inspiration and the moments of amazing emotion. Of feeling utterly alone and yet so thankful for all that I have. I want to write about the strange sense of being embraced by the universe, almost suffocated in it’s grip, in what I assume is an attempt to not let me slip back in to the world I once knew so intimately. Its refusal to let me return to who I used to be; back then, when it all was seemingly so easy on auto pilot. I want to write about how glad I am that I can’t slip back and how angry and disappointed I am that I can make headway moving forward. Some times I’m lazy. Some times I’m scared. Some times I don’t know where to begin. Some times I find a beginning that provides a fleeting moment of inspiration; I am reminded of an energy inside me that is not readily flowing right now.

I want to write about trusting that my feet will find the ground if I take a step. About the shear importance of something so simple as a song that I can relate to. Of feeling utterly out of touch with news and friends and yet compelled to touch it all the time in an effort to keep up. I want to write about growing older and wanting to keep up because I’m not old enough not to keep up. I want to write about how angry it makes me that our society is a hotbed for competition and why, even as friends, our hearts feel threatened and devalued because another being is experiencing something wonderful.

I want to write about the strange bridge that having a child creates in my relationships. I have never been the middleman but it’s so fun to link my daughter with my mother and place her in the position of grandmother. To make my sister an aunt and to give my child the joy of my sister friend.  It’s so strange to fall in step with the path mankind treads through centuries; strange to become a link rather than an end.

I want to write about how I know this is a moment in my existence. How some days I am embarrassed by how ungracefully I have lived through it and how some days I am so thankful this is how it is unfolding. How some days I feel so derailed and I worry it will never end. Other days, I worry that when it does end, I won’t have learned the lesson.

The coffee is cold. Dark circles line the table and lipstick kisses line our cups. We are left with the promise of next time...

And just like that, it's June.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Never Knew Your Name

Mason Jennings

Just a lazy Thursday afternoon - me and my girl - singing our ABCs, reading books on our bellies, laughing, peek-a-booing, watching videos, making videos... just being us; just loving each other.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Simple Song

The Shins

I've never had a song written about me. It's one of those things I silently desire but when faced with the reality of my life, I'm not putting my money on the compliment. One of the best compliments I have however received was from D, saying I inspired him. I hold that compliment in place of the poetry my untold song lyrics paint. It is D's poetry. His way is more subtle than stanzas and I tend to digest it in the silence of my thoughts later. 

Tonight he came home talking about the Gotye song again. It has been in his head for at least a week now since we watched the Somebody That I Used To Know video and I showed him the video of the cover by Walk Off the Earth. I can't tell you how many times we watched it (I forgot about how cool music videos can be). D gets something in his head and puts it on repeat for hours...days; he likes to study it to no end. When he walked in today, he was telling me how he listened to the radio all day and they played the Gotye a lot. I already knew that because I am the last person on the planet that still likes listening to the radio on a daily basis. He mentioned another song that he really liked that was being played a lot too. I knew it was Simple Song by the Shins. Once I called it up on itunes, it was there in our life playing a special concert for us as his head nodded yes to my music identification. 

We went back and forth about the lyrics, about the meaning and music as we ate dinner and bathed miss M. D contends that it is an almost perfect song, a masterpiece that might live through the ages. Later, he went downstairs while I went up to work. As I climbed the stairs I heard him in his office watching the Shins' video. I had to check it out too and find their NYC concert I watched a few weeks ago on NPR. I found this acoustic version of James Mercer singing the song in his studio and have had it on repeat the entire night.

You sure must be strong
and you feel like an ocean made warm by the sun

I contend that the song is about love, about discovering another soul aligned with yours and letting them lift you out of your wallow. It's about fantasizing the good stuff, risking your heart, and making a connection. Just this afternoon I was thinking about how all we really have in this life is whole-heartedly sharing our experiences with those we hold close, even if sometimes it means we find unrequited love. I've come to welcome the bleeding (if I don't take the heartbreak too seriously) as much as the laughter for how alive it can make me feel. After listening to the song for hours on end, I contend it is about how our silent desires can fuel the most powerful experiences we live. It's about how our presence is what really brings people joy.

In so many ways the song feels like home. I do think it will be a piece of art to be enjoyed for years to come. Somewhere in the repeat waves of lyrics, I realized I have no clue what someone would write about me in a song. I would take this song in heartbeat but I'm sure it is someone else's tune. Instead, I'll take the evening, the familiarity of my love, and his inquisitiveness, which inspires me.

Love's such a delicate thing that we we do,
with nothing to prove,
which I never knew.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Each Friend...

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm a vision board type. This month, I'm changing it out; making space for fresh, new meditations in my life. I pulled down all my clippings this morning and I'm letting them go. I want to find something new to mull over in my mind. As I discard all these thoughts that normally I would pack in to in a box somewhere to save for my eyes to review when I'm 80, I want to catch this quote and hold it in my history.

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world not possibly born until they arrive, 
and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
- Anais Nin

Friday, May 11, 2012

Wait a Minute

We went up to the property last weekend. It was the first official weekend up there as a family and D would have had preferred it a month ago if he could have made it possible. I was not so ready for the season of weekend warriors. As we drove up, I told him May was early for camping (not that swingin' equals real camping...). He disagreed, saying March was early but not May with a tone that implied it might as well be the middle of June. It was good to get away from Denver city. The mountains were quiet, so to speak, since it's still early in the season. The weather was nice though a little chill hung in the air. We went to visit the Harris clan at their campsite. Sunday afternoon, a storm moved in across the valley and by sunset we were in the mix of a thunderstorm that changed to hail that changed to snowfall. We woke up to this scene Monday morning. As they say, if you don't like the weather in Colorado wait a bit and it will change.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Mother's Day 2012

D made Mother's Day complete with flowers, a copper watering can, and a funny Flintstone-illustrated card signed by him, M and H (who spent the night). I whole-heartedly threw down my obligations standing over a hot mammoth trunk scrubbing dishes with a porcupine and embraced the moment. 

The day was light and fun, we all laughed quite a bit. We are getting to the point where hanging with miss M feels so comfortable. I realized it one night as all three of us were in her room unwinding for the evening. I realized the moment felt so fluid and relaxed and that she was just as comfortable hanging out as we were. We can joke and we can not say anything at all and it still is really awesome. 

Having H over to hang out brings this whole other dynamic too; one where M laughs and plays with him in an elitist toddler way. It's fun to watch them in their own world, chattering like a couple of stuffed-mouthed chipmunks. I'm getting to a point these days where I sometimes have to catch myself laughing when I should be "reprimanding" her - like when she was showing off to H by putting a penny in her mouth. I went to grab it and she swallowed it. They both started laughing while I neurotically tried to figure out what to do next. 

How does this little soul continue to amaze me so much? I find myself in moments daily where I almost start to cry at how beautiful she is to me. My heart swoons when she's truly happy and she wraps her little arm around my shoulder and pats me on the back or when she plants a soft, doughy kiss on my lips. I'm amazed by her development, her curiosity and her comprehension (including her desire to try saying new words such as "fuck" or "fucking" or "fucker" after her mom has demonstrated using the word with a rabid intensity that makes it so enticing). I watch with joy as she randomly dances to music that comes on the radio or spins around in circles just for fun (which I believe definitely calls for a tutu). I'm even more proud when she randomly laughs at something that strikes her as funny or greets another person in our everyday adventures with the sweetest little "hi" and wave. She is my true gift.

P.S. I have no clue why miss M is smelling the Goldfish cracker but she is already 
showing signs of a much more distinguished palate than me.

Friday, May 4, 2012

Underwater Play

Miss M and I went to the Denver Zoo the other day and got caught up at the sea lion exhibit; at the windows where you can watch what happens in their underworld. She has never been taken by them the way she was the other day. For some odd reason, the zoo crowds were foregoing the lower level that day so it felt like a secret reprieve. I liked the escape so I could take in my girl in yet another moment of discovery. We shared the joy and beauty of these animals together, mostly alone in the shade with their silent swiftness to keep us buoyed in place.

Watching the sea lions swim by creates such a wave of excitement. They pass the windows and tumble together in the water playing, streaming right by you. Then they swim on back to the other end of their cage. That elated feeling dissipates. Everything stills in the water and little bubbles drift to the surface. The streams of sunlight take center stage. As the calm returns, you look deep in to the tank and see their shapes growing larger again.