these dreams

so i had a dream this morning.

it involved a specific kind of space and a faultless women to whom i have assigned, fault.

this was the kind of dream where everything is real, but only for a part of it.

Like a sleeping meditation.

the space was like an ashram or a devotional meeting place.

One might say that those things are one and the same.

In this dream i had a friend who was there as a safety,

someone to make the surroundings inconspicuous.

She lead me closely to the point where i had no choice but to engage with this person,

this casualty of a broken and missed communication.

This person engaged ME first.

Asking if what i did could help her.

She was shy and unsure about connecting to my cold and stone-like glances.

She tried to talk to me about it without crying,

but continually broke into tears explaining her pain and NOT explaining her pain.

She looked INTO my eyes. Sorrowful. Humanly distraught.

and i sat there.

i answered.

i was sarcastic.

i was unhelpful.

i gave in at the end, but only because of the more persistent discomfort of feeling so closed.

NOT to be helpful.

NOT because i cared.

NOT because i wanted to HEAL anything.

I awoke

and was aware

that i need space to empty out this animosity.

so that the love that is quiet

can come back in

can grow and assist

can be EXACTLY what it is meant to be.

effortless.

this is my mission.

create/uncreate

well today started off the same as yesterday.

talking to the dog and preparing my coffee.

yesterday many awful dog things happened.

he got loose from his collar and lead, from sheer fear of construction equipment.

he then was covered in compost. (smart dog )

later he shat in his kennel, which was a first, and clearly not an act of rebellion, but a shameful and happily forgotten event by such a noble creature. (as told by his rigid attachment to the other side of his cage and the soft defeated ears, which matched his gaze)

i thought we had put all this behind us until later last night i entered our bedroom to find him DESTROYING our bed.

he had literally unmade the bed, shredded the bottom sheet and chewed through the tempurpedic mattress topper.

all within 7 minutes.

i mean.

seriously.

destroying.

for NO reason.

Luckily, we now know his reaction to Mommy being extremely and unforgivingly angry.

it was appropriate.

These were my FAVORITE sheets.

Le Telerie Toscane.

i got them on sale about 10 years ago, for $70.

Down from $250.

i just went for the color.

and maybe the opulent luxury.

Whichever it was, and it WAS the color, i have loved them ever since.

they were like new.

The ONLY plus is that these sheets were with me in my first marriage.

Maybe they needed to be destroyed before this true one happening in August.

hint hint: perfect wedding gift, new le telerie toscane sheets.

Also:

today, this morning, i have been feeling creative.

which can really be described better as destructive.

and then i thought,' are they the same? '

i want to mow my lawn, cultivate my garden, weed, clean, scrap off wallpaper.

all with creative energy.

Isn't something always destroyed before created?

aren't they symbiotic?

Isn't it like that every time?

birth.

death.

winter. spring. summer. fall.

canvas.

painting.

hair grows.

hair cut.

flower. fruit. seed. tree.

sheets.

no sheets.

There should be no unwanted judgment. creation doesn't require that.

i think only we require that for some sort of worth weighing game that we play.

i would like to invoke that space where i did not judge and therefore felt no judgement.

that is a place that i found freeing and pleasing.

like clouds passing over a sunlit field.

happy day, boys and girls, babes and elders.

All of you.

xo

i guess there wasn't much to say

Woah.

it's been since February?

i was most definitely not silent that whole time.

i had things to say. maybe not as much as usual.

maybe i was a bit frozen like the ground around me, just like i am a bit rainy like these skies today.

and it's May. Mid May.

and it's freezing.

A lot of things have happened.

We adopted a puppy.

This was a huge life change. One that has led me to believe there is a possibility i will never parent a child, for fear of being sent to a mental ward.

There seems to be a VERY real chance of this.

Not because i can't see beyond the moment.

Not because i don't love my dog, or that i wouldn't die for my child.

It's a conscious life style change and commitment that would decrease some of the necessary time i need for function.

Not optimum function. just function in general.

This decrease would effect all things around me. or at least my perception of them and therefore, my behavior would explode and ooze out without control...having an effect. and not a pleasant one.

It's been eye opening to say the least and majorly draining and of course, lovely and joy bringing.

It gave me insights into how our strengths in some situations can be weaknesses in others.

Like when the abstract creates form or when it does not.

When sex includes love and when love includes sex and when either of those things lie alone.

When discipline is seen as love and not control.

How fear of control leads to pure chaos.

How every person has their own experience of all of these things.

I have had little tolerance for gluttonous atheism these days.

For hip Godlessness along with a disdain for humanity in general.

I feel it more and more.

and if 'God is a concept, by which we measure our pain', then people are in agony.

Scotch is poison. Scotch is warm tradition.

Money is paper. Money is freedom.

Cigarettes will kill you quicker than both of those, but they look cool.

Everything is Everything.

I mean this for myself as well as all of the others to whom it is directed.

My dog is chewing the bone he left on his bed last night.

I think he'd chew it all day if he could.

If i didn't control his environment out of love.

xo

stay dry.

Dying Wishes

i was thinking in the shower, just last week.

i was thinking about our Dying Wishes and what that means.

I find the whole concept interesting.

Are these intentions?

Are these unreached goals?

Are these things we did not have the courage to say in life?

Can we wish something for someone else?

Would our time be better used facilitating changes that we 'wish' to see.

Can we recognize shortcomings and just give a little slack?

Can we add Light instead of point out and listen to Dark.

so anyway.

instead of this, instead of a bucket list, I'd like to strive to accomplish these things while I'm here and alive.

there are some things on my list that would not cause me grief upon death and there are somethings

that would.

Luckily those things that would are simple.

they are just difficult for ME.

Dying Wishes/Bucket List:

I would like to visit Greece. Italy. Spain. More than just visit there i would like to BE there.

I would like to not be afraid of sharks and maybe try surfing.

I would like to dance the Argentine Tango.

I hope for my sweet one that he may realize his true potential and greatness.

I hope to say I Love You more.

I wish for true contentment in my heart and the wellspring of joy to be ever flowing.

I wish my families could be peaceful.

I wish for stillness and no-thing-ness in our minds and mouths.

I wish for soft breezes and fragrant flowers.

I wish for Sun and Sailing.

I wish for awe and majesty at the Mountain Top.

I wish for forgiveness and acceptance for myself and for you.

If there was ever a time you were unsure, I have loved you.

If there is ever a time you are unsteady, I will hold you.

If there is a time that you are hungry, I will feed you.

If you are lonely, I will be with you.

Let's make our wishes our lives.

and by doing so, we will be free to soar at the next leg of this journey.

What are your Dying Wishes?

I'd love to know.

xo

Comfort Food

i am currently devouring a bowl of mushroom stroganoff atop fresh parsley and garlic pasta.

this is very good.

and very bad for me.

and I'm still eating it, relishing all the comfort and joy that it has to offer my mouth and my nose and my brain. the fullness i will hopefully soon feel.

making up for the fact that my sweetie is working late.

I'm sure i wouldn't have forgotten the fresh spinach had he been arriving soon. and probably there would be a great big hole in the space that the sour cream is taking up.

but c'est la vie.

it is mid January in New England. this is how i am compelled to operate.

i should really leave on vacation this time EVERY year.

it's cold and it's BEEN cold.

it's mostly gray.

there are dumb things like shoveling that take up my time and hurt my body.

i don't feel like leaving my house and being inside of it insists that be committed.

rock.

hard place.

the lame part is that if only my man was coming home to warm me up, i would behave differently.

not just because we could snug, but i receive warmth from his cute face. his messy hairdo. his loose work pants.

don't get me started on his cheeks and eyelashes.

he melts away the frozen coffin that encompasses my joie de vivre.

even if he himself feels taken over.

it's just better together.

a year ago i was in Arizona drinking Green Juice and receiving IV therapy.

My Mommy was taking care of me and wearing a matching leisure suit in solidarity.

Doug was alive and battling a disease that took his life in July.

Seth was getting ready to leave my side and visit Cale in Portland, OR.

Doesn't life look a lot different today.

one GREAT thing is that i don't have a PICC line dangling from my left bicep.

my body is healthier. (except for the stroganoff)

My mom still lives in AZ and is navigating unknown territory.

Doug has passed on.

Seth is working late.

He is also my FIANCE and we OWN A HOUSE!

Thankfully, this use of reflection helps me to remember that life just keeps going and changing and we do too.

Remembering that in times and climates like these can be a challenge for me.

Everything just seems embedded in ice.

not hatefully so, just matter of fact like.

PS. i have been wearing my blue leisure suit for almost a week straight and have almost no intention of ruining that streak.

let's hope for sun and the expedited arrival of Spring.

my skin is literally ACHING for sunlight.

God rest ye, merry gentlemen.

x

a change gonna come

i was just reflecting on my last couple of months and the changes that have occurred in my life and lifestyle.

the small differences that add up to an enormous re-routing of daily intentions.

the one that hit me in the cajones is this stark comparison.

i traded sex

for the home depot.

i used to instate what i fondly referred to as the 'Hump-Olympics'.

This happened most every weekend and was driven by going for the gold, just like the real Olympics.

Currently, I feel like a fallen hero.

a gold medalist who now sits around in sweatpants and 30 extra pounds, eating chips, and watching Entertainment Tonight.

(this is not true. it is also not FAR from the truth.)

My main concerns on the weekend are cleaning (steamy), cooking(hott), and making lists of things to do around the house (orgasmic).

i mean seriously folks, this is NOT me, nor does it 'bring out my eyes' because of it's secure fasten around my neck, like a dreaded turtle neck or....perhaps, noose.

that is to say, it is not becoming. flattering. well suiting.

mostly, i want to have adventures.

i want to wake up whenever and have sex, go have some coffee, play some music, have some sex. take a nap, eat yummy food that makes you fat, have sex, find some friends and have fun doing fun things. and in the end, snuggle into bed and have some more sex.

this is who i was. it is who i am.

it's just not what I'm doing.

this is troublesome to say the least.

mostly because the person i have described as my memory self or Tits McGee the Wonder girl, is fading fast under the piles of scrapeable wallpaper and window insulation kits.

It also happens to be freezing and this makes my entire self, ANGRY.

all sorts of it.

enraged.

irritated.

annoyed.

bored.

it also makes me plain cold.

and then i see things in a cold way and speak like icicles and window frost.

this is not really about sex or having it.

i could have it anytime.

It's the embodiment of it and the freedom of expression that i feel i am lacking and too tired to grasp for. the openness and levity.

my mind (most important sex organ) is muddied with all of this useful and on time information that i personally don't really care about.

i talk to people about this frequently and I've had the experience before.

I'm just rather intolerant of it when it's happening to me.

all i need is to change my perspective.

like maybe look at it all from ...Mexico. or perhaps Greece.

This, too, shall pass.

Warmth will return to my veins and my body will deem the environment safe for procreation.

Until then, i will wear extra layers and listen to more Al Green.

Baby, it's cold outside.

Do you consider it creepy that I'm stalking my own garbage?

today is supposed to be the first day of curbside pick-up and i am thrilled!

However, i have spotted the Waste Management Truck and it did NOT go it's usual route and it DID bypass my house.

hmmmm.

So I'm still watching out the front window shade, that is usually shut for privacy, with a bit of anxiety lingering in my limbs.

in other news.

I was forced to think last night while watching a particularly uninspiring and lamentable band.

I tried to coax my thoughts away from the snide comments trapezing around in my head and focused more on the questions.

Do these SEVEN people think that is IMPORTANT?

Are they invested WHOLLY in the message of the music?

Do they feel that it is an enjoyable EXPERIENCE?

and lastly,

Do they think that the sounds they are producing are any GOOD?

This might seem judgmental. I suppose it might be, but not in the sense that i am in charge of or deciding on a verdict.

It was the kind of thing that made me want to spring forth from my seat and flee the scene.

like i was wasting precious moments of my life that i could never recover.

but...being only moments after arriving, i couldn't really bail so soon. so i/we waited it out. Hoping that the first few bars were just a warm-up.

This was not the case.

And, this was not the worst thing I've ever seen or listened to.

It was mostly just unconscious and unaware.

Masturbation that sounded like room temperature milk or cold toast with greasy butter remnants.

Again, some people might like or even LOVE all of the above mentioned items. If fact they could LONG to have them all TOGETHER and if so, they should have been there last night.

Surprisingly, This group carried quite an entourage.. it looked mostly like proud family members and young impressionable teen sorts.

I had seen lead singer at a show in years past. We may have even played together. He was solo and honestly, much more enjoyable.

perhaps, he was lonely.

This act finally ceased their wailing and the next 3 individuals mounted the stage. The guitarist and bassist looked so much like twins that i asked the question of whether or not they were. the answer was no. they were all very thin with self taught barbering skillz and ill fitting sweaters. Their bodies were wavering and soft and hard at the same time, much like the music that they produced. and although i wasn't going to run up and purchase a recording, it was honest. It all fit together. There were no questions.

They were DEFINITELY lonely.

and this left me at this thought here.

What does it mean to be lonely? Is that what every musician is warbling about?

or maybe, it's just about being alone.

BEING.

ALONE.

which is different than being lonely.

There were stories and longing and blame and the simplicity of being together.

BEINGS.

TOGETHER.

a lover's old sweatshirt, the way your college apartment smelled, the sound of the space between the words of dismantling a relationship.

It made me seek a new perspective on my own authorship and why and how i write lyrics.

It didn't make me feel or think that i was better at it. just different.

I have had this experience on other occasions, where, theoretically i should despise the person singing.

yes.

based on my theories.

a quicker and easier way to arrive at pleasure.

i like this.

i don't like that.

but, something won't allow it.

the other part of the theory.

the trump.

Be honest.

Be Authentic.

Show me what you mean.

Mean what you say.

Even if you are afraid.

Even if you are lonely. Even if you are alone.

Like everybody else.

There is no promise of acceptance here.

Just that of witness.

So now i will express my gratitude for this experience.

Thank you, young men and young lady.

If nothing else, you made me uncomfortable enough to question my own motives and routine.

and i am grateful.

Happy Holidays.

P.S. my trash is still here. :(