Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Thought in real time

Once you've let someone into your heart, saying goodbye takes time.

Monday, November 29, 2010

The way things aren't

Tonight, I spotted a pile of abandoned books at a bus stop. At first glance I thought this one was titled, "The Cheerful Writer".

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Evolving 201

Nothing in life is really black and white, but sometimes it's good to make something black and white. Sometimes, when you've had enough of something, the best thing you can do for yourself is to stop examining, questioning, forgiving and fixing it. Sometimes it's best to just draw a line and say that's it, no more.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Thanksgiving moment #4

When the apartment is filled with the smells of home cooking, and you're in the presence of active love, the gray day outside your window matters not.  

Thanksgiving moment #3

Turkey in the oven, stuffed with apples and drenched in champagne.

Thanksgiving moment #2

There's nothing that makes me cry like raw emotion, and raw onion.

Thanksgiving moment #1

Aside from meditating, there's nothing I find more meditative than sitting alone in a quiet kitchen, trimming and cutting 3 pounds of string beans.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Popular poultry

At Fairway Market today, my turkey was approached and filmed by NBC News.

I haven't even cooked it, and already it's a success!

Monday, November 22, 2010

Earlier tonight, I experienced a self-generated feeling of powerlessness, but after taking in the air outside, I realized it was an illusion. Slipping into darkness wasn't real.

For the past several weeks, my subconscious mind has been working overtime to heal what hurts on a conscious level. I may stumble, then fall into dangerous thoughts that mute the pretty colors, but I have not missed a thing. I have noticed the tree on Broadway packed with singing birds, the love inside the embrace of a friend, the dimple on the left side of my daughter's face while she chews.

I've known for a long time, regardless of psychic pain, existential loneliness, violence and turbulence, that life is sweet. I've known for a long time that when you are standing in joy, you might soon be standing in grief, and as quickly as you slip into darkness, is as quickly as the light goes back on.

I can change the channel with my remote, but bad news will always play. So I remember there's hot coffee on a cold day, or a lover who made me laugh. There's a piece of music that makes me feel, and a painting that reminds me to notice. Notice the dimple on her face, and the birds that bring in winter, as I keep open my heart, when all it wants to do is close.

Friday, November 19, 2010

13

Annie: "I love you, Mom."

Me: "Oh, you only love me when I give you something you want."

Annie: "No, when you give something I want, it just reminds me that I love you."
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres.

1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Thoughts in real time

Rainy night.
War begets war.
The first two weeks were easier than I imagined.
Today was harder than I imagined.
It would be nice, if just before bed, I could turn off my heart.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Unsolicited advice from me

When you're caught in a trap... you should walk out.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Homecoming

For the past 12 months, I was not the mother I wanted to be. I listened to a voice other than my own, and put someone else first. Annie has been my girl for 13 years and she needs me now, maybe more than she ever will. She can run me through the ringer, then grow up and fly away, but she's my heart. And even if I fall in love again, I'll never leave her again. Not ever. No way.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

On her way back...

She is.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed I was in the wilderness, elevated from the ground on a rock. There was a bear below, and when it saw me, it began climbing to where I was. I hunkered down and hid. A ranger appeared and started to shoot, and though I was thankful to be protected, my heart was broken. I couldn't bring myself to look at the bear as he now lay dead.

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

Thoughts in real time

I will never sacrifice my peace, or doubt my intuition, or trust the way I once did.

Sad but not longing, alone but not lonely--withheld truth is just like lies.

Pretty windy night.

Wasn't thinking about apples...
... until just now.

Monday, November 08, 2010

Thoughts in real time

I never envisioned a future, so I'm never surprised to find myself wherever I am.

I have so little time left to spend with my daughter like this.

I learned about what people are made of and what they're not made of. I learned about bonds that don't break and cycles that don't end. I learned that untruths are the same as lies.

I didn't know I'd like being alone as much as I do.

When a man looks at me and tells me I give him hope, he's just looking in a mirror, liking what he sees, and what he sees is me--looking in a mirror, liking what I see.

Nice, nice weekend.

Why do I keep thinking about apples?

Saturday, November 06, 2010

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

The end

I stood alone in the empty kitchen, the freshly mopped floor under me felt like something new. The glasses were packed yesterday, so like he had done the night before, I filled a bowl with water and I drank. The kitchen is clean, I thought. Ready for new lives.

A wishbone sat on the bare counter, but what could I wish for, and who would make the other wish? Even if he were still here and agreed to play such a silly game, he may have wished for money, and I just would have made another wish for him.

The next morning I would wake to new but familiar sounds. A siren, a workman, a baby crying, but it's all quieter where I am now. The sun gets in, there's a fountain outside, and though I didn't build or create this better place, I did use my degree to get here. I could have kept living in a way that lessened and diminished my life, but that wouldn't have made me strong. It wouldn't have been a test of my character, or meant I was a good soldier--it simply would have meant that I was enduring. I knew I deserved better, and walking away is often more courageous than staying--I knew that too.

I took one swig from the last bottle of bourbon and poured the rest down the drain. I opened the fridge then emptied the milk, the juice, the can of ginger ale he was saving for later. No more cigarettes by the window, no more martinis after midnight, no more questions or doubts, no more failed attempts at everything.

No more morning embraces and hour-long kisses.

I grabbed my bag.

One last look at the bathtub where he bathed, where we were often so playful and sometimes so sad. One last look at the living room where we slowed danced, where he said it was always me--the only one he loved like that. One last look at the kitchen where I made him a first meal, where he arrived on the dot, so handsome and hopeful. One last look at the room where we loved one another and slept, then I turned to leave and turned the key.

And with my newly strung guitar on my back, I left the love nest and the battlefield. I took the train home to where the sky is bluer and the light is brighter, where sirens still blare and babies still cry, but where the world looks more like mine. Now I can wish again for the things I want, and be in a place where I am free to breathe.