Sandy and Mike's cabin:
Rhinebeck (NYS Sheep and Wool Festival):
Monday, October 18, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Out and in
Contour drawing at the art museum.
Hanging in the woods.
Calvin and Hobbes.
Pokemon theme song singing.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Spotty
W and S arrived last night and will be with us for a whole week. I am very happy.
Yesterday was busy in a good way preparing the nest. I find company motivates me to get some of those pesky/odd household chores done and done.
I had some quiet respite when I took the kids to the museum for their art class.
I've restarted Turpentine, a book that is wonderfully written, on semi-permanent loan from Barbra.
And a lovely rice bowl with squash and hakusai and mung bean sprouts and coconut aminos nourished me at lunch. Dinner ended up being a big slice of Cap's apple pie.
My presence here will likely be spotty for the next week. Have a good one. Peace and love.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Nether
Mmm. I like today's "poem of the day" over at The Poetry Foundation.
Nether
Nether
The equilibrium of any particular aspect of nature rests on the equivalence of its opposites. —Piet Mondrian
Some land lives
so water can comb
it into grids. This
is why lowlands
tilt still toward
the sea. This so
we call our canal
leaning horse,
hat tempting wind,
somewhere a tear
in linen where
the loom bent
a heddle. We plant
lapis in the middle
of begonia boxes
hung from our
houseboat’s sills.
At night the eels
snug against
our houseboat’s hum,
water’s warm hem.
We hear them slip
itch into our floor.
Our houseboat lilts
when the bigger boats
slide us waves.
Our concrete floats.
We’re mostly moored
to stay. In the damp
bank where the ducks
hedge weeds,
our bikes sleep.
We lean toward wind.
Our pant legs thin
from all the rain
on our knees.
From here the horizon
gauzes above us.
We are half hidden
by light. We are folds
in fog. We stand
open on the deck
and beckon the silt
to settle. We wait
for a balance so grand
that any flicker
of inverse could
pull us up to spires.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Trust in me
Just heard this great song as the credits rolled on Mad Men. The video images are random. If it helps, turn the sound up and close your eyes :-)
On melancholy hill
Love it when a new song swoops in to shift my mood. Go to YouTube to hear the song/see the video.
On Melancholy Hill/Gorillaz
Up on melancholy hill
There's a plastic tree
Are you here with me
Just looking out on the day
Of another dream
Well you can't get what you want
But you can get me
So let's head out to sea
'Cause you are my medicine
When you're close to me
When you're close to me
So call in the submarine
'round the world we'll go
Does anybody know
If we're looking out on the day
Of another dream
If you can't get what you want
Then come with me
Up on melancholy hill
Sits a manatee, love
Just looking out for the day
When you're close to me
When you're close to me
When you're close to me
On Melancholy Hill/Gorillaz
Up on melancholy hill
There's a plastic tree
Are you here with me
Just looking out on the day
Of another dream
Well you can't get what you want
But you can get me
So let's head out to sea
'Cause you are my medicine
When you're close to me
When you're close to me
So call in the submarine
'round the world we'll go
Does anybody know
If we're looking out on the day
Of another dream
If you can't get what you want
Then come with me
Up on melancholy hill
Sits a manatee, love
Just looking out for the day
When you're close to me
When you're close to me
When you're close to me
Saturday, October 09, 2010
The wrestler
I watched the first 40 minutes or so of this movie with Anna in the old place in VT ages ago. Today I finally got around to watching the whole thing. Man, was it depressing. Mickey Rourke was stunning and the story was well told. But, oh my god...painful and so so sad.
Some things I love
Love Donny Hathaway's voice. Love the tumblr Songs You Taught Me. Love that at certain times of the year, when the weather is just right, I get a free concert hearing the high school marching band rehearse from the field behind the house. (Especially Lady Gaga tunes :-)
Freak
When I was little I worried a lot about what other people thought of me and how I presented myself to the world. I was watchful and careful.
As a teenager and into young adulthood I explored and cultivated being 'different' and outside the box. I stopped worrying about what other people thought of me, and shed my caution layer by layer.
Trying to have children (for five years) and then welcoming them forced me to strive for balance. Not between being conventional and unusual, but between getting my freak on and taking care of business (I think part of the deal with parenting is that no one ever speaks to how much diligence and energy is required because if they did, not as many people would willingly have multiple children. Or maybe it's because they're too exhausted or preoccupied to talk.)
This Fall has been an intense time of sensitivity for me. I feel, simply and profoundly, involuntarily open and exposed. Emotion, sensation, the moon phase, you name it, I am feeling it a thousandfold. It's affecting how I take care of business.
I chopped into my finger yesterday and it knocked me out for the whole day. I woke in the middle of the night and rolled over and my back started spasming. I can't remember the last time that happened. (This despite Cap so kindly working on my shoulders and back while we watched 30 Rock and The Soup...therapy for the body and the soul.)
Here's this morning's kicker. I was looking at this page on my computer screen (Wendy is coming for a visit next week and has requested 'a fabulous coffee and baked good')...
and the intense aroma of chocolate began washing over me in waves entering my nostrils so powerfully I felt momentarily suffocated. Now, there is chocolate in the room presently. But, all was quiet on the olfactory front until this picture was staring me in the face, nearly an hour after I sat down at the desk. And this chocolate smell, I don't recognize it. It ain't coming from the bars I have (yes, I have two different bars-in-progress...)
Times like this I wonder if I was burned at the stake in a prior life. Or lobotomized and put on medication. Or placed in the special cave to live out my life of dreamy eyes and lopsided smiles/ranting and raving and raging tears.
As a teenager and into young adulthood I explored and cultivated being 'different' and outside the box. I stopped worrying about what other people thought of me, and shed my caution layer by layer.
Trying to have children (for five years) and then welcoming them forced me to strive for balance. Not between being conventional and unusual, but between getting my freak on and taking care of business (I think part of the deal with parenting is that no one ever speaks to how much diligence and energy is required because if they did, not as many people would willingly have multiple children. Or maybe it's because they're too exhausted or preoccupied to talk.)
This Fall has been an intense time of sensitivity for me. I feel, simply and profoundly, involuntarily open and exposed. Emotion, sensation, the moon phase, you name it, I am feeling it a thousandfold. It's affecting how I take care of business.
I chopped into my finger yesterday and it knocked me out for the whole day. I woke in the middle of the night and rolled over and my back started spasming. I can't remember the last time that happened. (This despite Cap so kindly working on my shoulders and back while we watched 30 Rock and The Soup...therapy for the body and the soul.)
Here's this morning's kicker. I was looking at this page on my computer screen (Wendy is coming for a visit next week and has requested 'a fabulous coffee and baked good')...
and the intense aroma of chocolate began washing over me in waves entering my nostrils so powerfully I felt momentarily suffocated. Now, there is chocolate in the room presently. But, all was quiet on the olfactory front until this picture was staring me in the face, nearly an hour after I sat down at the desk. And this chocolate smell, I don't recognize it. It ain't coming from the bars I have (yes, I have two different bars-in-progress...)
Times like this I wonder if I was burned at the stake in a prior life. Or lobotomized and put on medication. Or placed in the special cave to live out my life of dreamy eyes and lopsided smiles/ranting and raving and raging tears.
Friday, October 08, 2010
Less ouch
Cue song: ♪ it's my blog and I'll blog if I want to, blog if I want to, blog if I want to, you would blog too, if it happened to you ∼∼∼ ♪
(Well, you'd blog about what you wanted to blog about and maybe you wouldn't about your boo-boo.)
It's throbby but so far so good on the (lack of) infection front. Neosporin is my friend. (Thanks for the advice Kelly :-)
Reading the body
Had a breakthrough moment last night. Mad props to Donna for the masterful, fluid and seemingly effortless assist.
I fell asleep more easily than I have been. It was still what I would characterize as a 'hard' sleep, the kind where I imagine I was frowning and had my jaw clenched for much of the night.
My stomach felt kinda sour, kinda dull ache-y when I woke up. Digesting things hard to digest. Maybe digesting things not meant to be digested at all because they should have been let go at the point of entry. Or maybe things more digestible if consumed in better calibrated doses.
Dark chocolate coated marzipan, coconut creamer/decaf hazelnut coffee, emotions.
Toe-danced for a bit and my Qi energized, pushing out yawn after yawn and making my eyes leak.
I feel a spot of warmth in my belly radiating out gently.
I fell asleep more easily than I have been. It was still what I would characterize as a 'hard' sleep, the kind where I imagine I was frowning and had my jaw clenched for much of the night.
My stomach felt kinda sour, kinda dull ache-y when I woke up. Digesting things hard to digest. Maybe digesting things not meant to be digested at all because they should have been let go at the point of entry. Or maybe things more digestible if consumed in better calibrated doses.
Dark chocolate coated marzipan, coconut creamer/decaf hazelnut coffee, emotions.
Toe-danced for a bit and my Qi energized, pushing out yawn after yawn and making my eyes leak.
I feel a spot of warmth in my belly radiating out gently.
Thursday, October 07, 2010
You are not alone
You are not alone,
I'm with you
I'm lonely too
What's that song,
That can't be sung by two.
A broken home,
A broken heart,
Isolated and afraid,
Open up this is a raid,
I wanna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
You're not alone,
Every night,
I stand in your place.
Every tear,
On every face,
Tastes the same.
A broken dream,
A broken heart,
Isolated and afraid,
Open up this is a raid,
I'm gonna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
An open hand,
An open heart,
There's no need to be afraid,
Open up this is a raid,
I wanna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
I wanna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
I'm gonna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
Mavis Staples produced by Jeff Tweedy
I'm with you
I'm lonely too
What's that song,
That can't be sung by two.
A broken home,
A broken heart,
Isolated and afraid,
Open up this is a raid,
I wanna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
You're not alone,
Every night,
I stand in your place.
Every tear,
On every face,
Tastes the same.
A broken dream,
A broken heart,
Isolated and afraid,
Open up this is a raid,
I'm gonna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
An open hand,
An open heart,
There's no need to be afraid,
Open up this is a raid,
I wanna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
I wanna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
I'm gonna get it through to you,
You're not alone.
Mavis Staples produced by Jeff Tweedy
Pick me up
Was the plummet inevitable too?
After the high of the woods the rest of the day has been a little rough, especially the few hours right after getting home.
This helps:
After the high of the woods the rest of the day has been a little rough, especially the few hours right after getting home.
This helps:
This helps, too:
This helps though not as much as I thought it would:
Did manage to make a hand-me-down run to a friend's and a donation run to a local church thrift shop. Also stopped into the library to drop off Plastic Beach and pick up The Immaculate Collection. Then we picked up a schooling friend from his early dismissal. Indian Summer is radiating upon us today so we headed to Rita's.
Trying to get motivated for dinner. And cleaning the bathroom.
Woods
I suppose with Thoreau on my mind it was inevitable. I went for my walk this morning in the woods. I'm lucky to have this swath of trees on a bit of rocky mountain right here in town.
As the woods enveloped me, I nearly choked, the rich fecundity of the air was so qualitatively different from what was circulating through my system calling itself oxygen. These trees resuscitate me unconditionally, every time I step amongst them.
I felt a wave of gratitude. This was chased by creeping grief. I sensed an opening. Did I grab transformation or did it grab me? I whispered words which felt so sacred and then spoke them louder. The transcendental ecstasy I tap into is electrifying. The calm that pervades afterward a balm.
As the woods enveloped me, I nearly choked, the rich fecundity of the air was so qualitatively different from what was circulating through my system calling itself oxygen. These trees resuscitate me unconditionally, every time I step amongst them.
I felt a wave of gratitude. This was chased by creeping grief. I sensed an opening. Did I grab transformation or did it grab me? I whispered words which felt so sacred and then spoke them louder. The transcendental ecstasy I tap into is electrifying. The calm that pervades afterward a balm.
Wind
Practicing just a smidge of Qigong I noticed the wind moving through the dense green of the enormous maple out the window.
I gotta get out there.
Shower first. Hmm. Hair wet. Ooh. Slouchy red hat. Wait. TCM. Thoughts stream linear.
During Lung season, which is right now, one is supposed to take care with wind. It is considered best not to go out when windy. And if you have to, to wrap up thoroughly so the wind does not go through you. Into you. The wind carries stuff. Old stuff, dead stuff, cold stuff. During this season, the lungs are particularly sensitive, open, receptive. (Mine have been exquisitely, painfully so.)
It's a dance for me. I have always loved the wind. It feels like a part of me. I am an Air sign. This morning it is beyond me not to go out into it. Off comes the woolen wrap, under the hot shower I go.
I gotta get out there.
I gotta get out there.
Shower first. Hmm. Hair wet. Ooh. Slouchy red hat. Wait. TCM. Thoughts stream linear.
During Lung season, which is right now, one is supposed to take care with wind. It is considered best not to go out when windy. And if you have to, to wrap up thoroughly so the wind does not go through you. Into you. The wind carries stuff. Old stuff, dead stuff, cold stuff. During this season, the lungs are particularly sensitive, open, receptive. (Mine have been exquisitely, painfully so.)
It's a dance for me. I have always loved the wind. It feels like a part of me. I am an Air sign. This morning it is beyond me not to go out into it. Off comes the woolen wrap, under the hot shower I go.
I gotta get out there.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Thoreau
image pulled from web.
I came across this Thoreau quote today and fell into a memory. Sent spiraling with a smile. I dig this guy.
Lantern
Josh Ritter's new cd, on first listen, left me feeling kind of "eh". I do like this song though.
"So throw away those lamentations
We both know them all too well
If there's a book of jubilations
We'll have to write it for ourselves
So come and lie beside me darling
And let's write it while we still got time"
"So throw away those lamentations
We both know them all too well
If there's a book of jubilations
We'll have to write it for ourselves
So come and lie beside me darling
And let's write it while we still got time"
Shades of blue
1. Toasted pine nuts for breakfast. Satisfying and nourishing.
2. He looks like his baby-self in the very best way. "To be awake is to be alive." ---Thoreau
3. This moment of zen was followed by a frolic in the water. He is an earthly embodiment of "all in".
4. They sing and sing and love and love. Almost bought it on iTunes but remembered the ever giving library at the last minute.
P.S. Thanks to Cap for the awesome pictures of the kids at the ocean.
Biocentrism
Ooh, I like this post, too. Never heard of biocentrism. Sounds interesting.
Yummy excerpt:
This isn't idle philosophy. Science, too, is beginning to grasp the non-linear nature of reality. Heisenberg, the Nobel physicist whose uncertainty principle transformed our understanding of the world, once commented: "Contemporary science, today more than at any previous time, has been forced by nature herself to pose again the question of the possibility of comprehending reality by mental processes." Alas! The evidence has the weight of a boulder. Shall our vision forever flow around it? Experiment (PhysRevLett 49, 91, 1982) after experiment (Nature 459, 683, 2009) continues to show that entangled particles act as if there's no space or time separating them, a result that's intelligible only if we assume the mind transcends the existence of things in space and time.
From this viewpoint, we're not just the collection of cells and molecules classical science describes. Heinz Pagels, the esteemed theoretical physicist, once stated: "If you deny the objectivity of the world, unless you observe it and are conscious of it (as many prominent physicists have), then you end up with solipsism -- the belief that your consciousness is the only one." Although Pagels' conclusion is right, it's not just your consciousness that's the only one, it's ours. "Know in thyself and All one self-same soul," says the old Hindu poem "banish the dream that sunders part from whole."
According to biocentrism, the mind transcends space and time in that they're its tools, and not the other way around. This conception of reality dissolves away human individuality. "Sometimes," said Thoreau, "as I drift idly on Walden Pond, I cease to live and begin to be." The walls of space and time are illusory. We're all ephemeral forms of an individuality greater than ourselves, eternal even when we die. This is the indispensable prelude to immortality, and its highest form; we're forced to recall the words of the English poet John Donne, "Never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee," and to understand them in a more scientific way.
Yummy excerpt:
This isn't idle philosophy. Science, too, is beginning to grasp the non-linear nature of reality. Heisenberg, the Nobel physicist whose uncertainty principle transformed our understanding of the world, once commented: "Contemporary science, today more than at any previous time, has been forced by nature herself to pose again the question of the possibility of comprehending reality by mental processes." Alas! The evidence has the weight of a boulder. Shall our vision forever flow around it? Experiment (PhysRevLett 49, 91, 1982) after experiment (Nature 459, 683, 2009) continues to show that entangled particles act as if there's no space or time separating them, a result that's intelligible only if we assume the mind transcends the existence of things in space and time.
From this viewpoint, we're not just the collection of cells and molecules classical science describes. Heinz Pagels, the esteemed theoretical physicist, once stated: "If you deny the objectivity of the world, unless you observe it and are conscious of it (as many prominent physicists have), then you end up with solipsism -- the belief that your consciousness is the only one." Although Pagels' conclusion is right, it's not just your consciousness that's the only one, it's ours. "Know in thyself and All one self-same soul," says the old Hindu poem "banish the dream that sunders part from whole."
According to biocentrism, the mind transcends space and time in that they're its tools, and not the other way around. This conception of reality dissolves away human individuality. "Sometimes," said Thoreau, "as I drift idly on Walden Pond, I cease to live and begin to be." The walls of space and time are illusory. We're all ephemeral forms of an individuality greater than ourselves, eternal even when we die. This is the indispensable prelude to immortality, and its highest form; we're forced to recall the words of the English poet John Donne, "Never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee," and to understand them in a more scientific way.
Middle aged brain
image pulled from web.
There was a piece on the middle aged brain that caught my eye this morning. You can check it out here.
Love this yummy quote:
Developing relationships with people who rock your world and wake you up to how you are thinking is actually nourishing to your brain.
The article did make me wonder if maybe the ADDishness I am feeling so much more acutely lately has more to do with my aging brain than anything else...
image pulled from web.
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Gleek
I'm a Gleek (a geek for Glee). This song was featured in tonight's episode and...wow. Covering a Beatles tune and turning it upside down? I loved it.
More lung
image pulled from web.
Lung season...you're killing me.
Feelings of joyful wondrous vibrant possibility bashed and dashed by feelings of heartache and grief. Over and over again the last few days.
It's interesting...even as my mind asks just how much can a heart take? The heart keeps beating on, strongly, unfazed by the cacophony of notes spilling in and tumbling out with each breath of the lungs.
I think I'm ovulating, too. Which tends to bump up emotions to "11".
Knitting class at the Adult School was canceled. Boo.
Began teaching myself to play We Shall Overcome on the piano last night. Yay. (It's hard to play and sing at the same time! I couldn't read the notes for the left hand to play! But, nearly 30 years since I quit, I was able to figure it out anon and grabbed a pen to label some of the notes.)
I'm gonna go. Trying to spend less time online/on the computer.
Peace and love.
P.S. Scanning the lung images reminded me that I had an issue with a pain in my lung area two years ago. An x-ray showed "something" that was gone in a subsequent image. It's nice to think that this particularly intense and rocky Lung season may be my system working some of that shit out.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Belle and sebastian
Belle and Sebastian is probably the #1 band that I should love to death but in actuality, hardly ever listen to. Do you have a band like that? From their name (the title of a children's book) to where they're from (Glasgow) to their low-fi-ish yet lush sound (cello!), the ingredients for manatee love are there.
But, sometimes life unfolds in ways unexplainable.
Their new album is streaming over at NPR till its release next week. You can take a listen here.
But, sometimes life unfolds in ways unexplainable.
Their new album is streaming over at NPR till its release next week. You can take a listen here.
Peek
A hard digesting sleep.
A bit of Qigong.
A hot shower (love showers now that my hair is short).
A quick planning of meals for the week.
A spin through Whole Foods under budget.
A walk around the block accompanied by two scooters settling back home.
A breakfast of toasted pine nuts and hot cold prevention tea.
A song by an artist beloved during college days to add to my Rocktober playlist.
(I was plugged in during the walk, I thought I was going to be alone, and when Sag noticed the white cord traveling up to my ears midway 'round the block, he said, "aww, you get entertainment!" So cute. I offered him an earbud every time a new song came on after that, but he was not digging my selections :-)
A bit of Qigong.
A hot shower (love showers now that my hair is short).
A quick planning of meals for the week.
A spin through Whole Foods under budget.
A walk around the block accompanied by two scooters settling back home.
A breakfast of toasted pine nuts and hot cold prevention tea.
A song by an artist beloved during college days to add to my Rocktober playlist.
(I was plugged in during the walk, I thought I was going to be alone, and when Sag noticed the white cord traveling up to my ears midway 'round the block, he said, "aww, you get entertainment!" So cute. I offered him an earbud every time a new song came on after that, but he was not digging my selections :-)
Sunday, October 03, 2010
All good things...
My "All Me All The Time!" weekend is coming to an end. The boys just called for my dinner order. They'll be home soon.
I topped off my time of absolutely indulgent leisure with The Missing. A few clunky bits, but overall quite compelling. Set in New Mexico in the late 1800s, the setting (as it was then populated) itself was a character I was interested in, not to mention the leads were Cate Blanchett and Tommy Lee Jones who were a pleasure to watch.
My body is aching to squeeze my young 'uns. Looking forward to settling in with them to watch Amazing Race tonight!
I topped off my time of absolutely indulgent leisure with The Missing. A few clunky bits, but overall quite compelling. Set in New Mexico in the late 1800s, the setting (as it was then populated) itself was a character I was interested in, not to mention the leads were Cate Blanchett and Tommy Lee Jones who were a pleasure to watch.
My body is aching to squeeze my young 'uns. Looking forward to settling in with them to watch Amazing Race tonight!
Addendum
Then your sister-in-law posts this on Facebook and you think, thank you Universe, this makes much more sense (than the book I finished this morning). And, see what I would have missed if I curtailed my time online? :-p
Some choice excerpts (the author's name is Susan Piver):
Marriage is a commitment to share love, have sex and try to stay together with this one person, right? Well maybe, but I couldn't promise to do these things. I knew I couldn't say, "I do" to love--feelings change, and keep changing. I also knew I couldn't say yes to wanting to have sex with him for the rest of my life--desire is unpredictable. And ask him to commit to me? Which me? I couldn't commit to remaining the same me. So if you can't say yes to love, sex, or remaining the one each fell in love with, what are you agreeing to when you commit to a relationship?
I said yes to the unfolding, impenetrable arc of uncertainty. I guess I thought that finding love was an endpoint, that some kind of search was over and I would find home. We would leap over the threshold together into whatever we imagined our ideal cottage to be. But really we stepped through a crazy looking glass. No matter how hard we tried, how madly in love we were, or how skillfully we planned our life together, there was complete uncertainty about what the connection would feel like from day to day. I could give all the love I had (with great joy) and get back a blank stare. I could wake up as my crankiest, most sullen and narcissistic self, roll over, and greet the face of unconditional acceptance. Or not. It's like the weather: you can try to read the signs and guess about atmospheric conditions, but really there's no telling.
As far as I can see, the relationship never stabilizes, ever. In which case you can't actually promise each other anything. This is how it works. I have no idea why.
I wish I had known that when you live with someone for a long time, there is continuous, mind-blowing irritation. (Okay, I did know this, but I forgot.) Often the irritation arises when you try to replace your actual partner with who you wish he or she was, because they always figure out a way to tell you how unlike your projection they really are. Once you pick yourself up, that gives you yet another opportunity to choose between who this person is and who you sort of hoped he or she was. No matter how many times I prompt my husband with the correct lines for his role, he does not get into character. This irritates me. We have to throw away the script and just begin to improvise. You're playing you and I'm playing me. Go.
I didn't really understand that love does not arise, abide, or dissolve in connection with any particular feeling. It has almost nothing to do with feeling. (Nor does it seem to be a gesture, a commitment to stay, becoming best friends, or anything else I might have thought.) Love has become a container in which we live. Through time, riding mysterious waves of passion, aggression, and ignorance (and boredom), I think we began to live within love itself. At least I did. Each time I have opened up, extended myself, accepted what was being offered to me, stepped beyond my comfort zone to embrace him, the structure has been reinforced. I no longer have any idea if I love my husband or not. I can't imagine what the feelings I have for him could be called. I've even given up trying to love him. Our relationship is what gives us love, not the other way around. This is how it is.
And here's something else I've learned about a relationship: Okay, so it's not what you think it's going to be, the feelings are always changing, and you're going to have to say goodbye someday. But when you find your true love, there is something inside that simply and inexplicably says hello to him. Yes to him. Of course to him. Certainly. Obviously it's you. There is no choice. I do.
Some choice excerpts (the author's name is Susan Piver):
Marriage is a commitment to share love, have sex and try to stay together with this one person, right? Well maybe, but I couldn't promise to do these things. I knew I couldn't say, "I do" to love--feelings change, and keep changing. I also knew I couldn't say yes to wanting to have sex with him for the rest of my life--desire is unpredictable. And ask him to commit to me? Which me? I couldn't commit to remaining the same me. So if you can't say yes to love, sex, or remaining the one each fell in love with, what are you agreeing to when you commit to a relationship?
I said yes to the unfolding, impenetrable arc of uncertainty. I guess I thought that finding love was an endpoint, that some kind of search was over and I would find home. We would leap over the threshold together into whatever we imagined our ideal cottage to be. But really we stepped through a crazy looking glass. No matter how hard we tried, how madly in love we were, or how skillfully we planned our life together, there was complete uncertainty about what the connection would feel like from day to day. I could give all the love I had (with great joy) and get back a blank stare. I could wake up as my crankiest, most sullen and narcissistic self, roll over, and greet the face of unconditional acceptance. Or not. It's like the weather: you can try to read the signs and guess about atmospheric conditions, but really there's no telling.
As far as I can see, the relationship never stabilizes, ever. In which case you can't actually promise each other anything. This is how it works. I have no idea why.
I wish I had known that when you live with someone for a long time, there is continuous, mind-blowing irritation. (Okay, I did know this, but I forgot.) Often the irritation arises when you try to replace your actual partner with who you wish he or she was, because they always figure out a way to tell you how unlike your projection they really are. Once you pick yourself up, that gives you yet another opportunity to choose between who this person is and who you sort of hoped he or she was. No matter how many times I prompt my husband with the correct lines for his role, he does not get into character. This irritates me. We have to throw away the script and just begin to improvise. You're playing you and I'm playing me. Go.
I didn't really understand that love does not arise, abide, or dissolve in connection with any particular feeling. It has almost nothing to do with feeling. (Nor does it seem to be a gesture, a commitment to stay, becoming best friends, or anything else I might have thought.) Love has become a container in which we live. Through time, riding mysterious waves of passion, aggression, and ignorance (and boredom), I think we began to live within love itself. At least I did. Each time I have opened up, extended myself, accepted what was being offered to me, stepped beyond my comfort zone to embrace him, the structure has been reinforced. I no longer have any idea if I love my husband or not. I can't imagine what the feelings I have for him could be called. I've even given up trying to love him. Our relationship is what gives us love, not the other way around. This is how it is.
And here's something else I've learned about a relationship: Okay, so it's not what you think it's going to be, the feelings are always changing, and you're going to have to say goodbye someday. But when you find your true love, there is something inside that simply and inexplicably says hello to him. Yes to him. Of course to him. Certainly. Obviously it's you. There is no choice. I do.
Books and thinkings
The Nellie Oleson book (Confessions of a Prairie Bitch) was good. If you are/were a Little House fan I highly recommend it. She dishes on working on the show with love, wit and clarity.
I started Married To Distraction yesterday and finished it today. I thought it started strong but ended...not with a whimper, but it kind of faded into ideas that didn't resonate with me (most significantly "God" was suddenly thrown into the mix).
The premise that the reason so many marriages/long term coupledom suffer these days is due to lack of attention (which the book defines as prevalent way above and beyond an actual ADD diagnosis) makes sense. Figuring out ways to assign/apply judgment-free constructs of how/who we are as individuals, alone and in relationship, as well as, specific to various situations, seems like a good idea...but a bit cumbersome.
The authors (a married couple one of whom has ADD) include a "workbook" at the end, 30 exercises in 30 days, designed to assist couples to reconnect. The point being that if you practice giving each other attention, empathy, understanding and play every day, or often enough, that there's no way two people committed to a lasting relationship, who once loved each other crazily, won't recapture what seems lost.
I finished the book feeling it lacked a distinct feeling of nuance/depth.
I'll be interested to get through some of the ADD books I have that I haven't finished or started (I know, go ahead and chuckle). Because reading this book made me feel less ADDish rather than more.
Onto my thinkings:
I am feeling slightly beached. Like I'm out of flow. When I pull back as far as I can, I see that this is most likely due to not receiving Vinny treatments for going on two months now. Going from weekly treatments for two years to zero for two months is taking its toll. Not to mention the silent twilight of my emotions around him which cannot even begin to touch the reality that he was so sick he almost died.
There are times that I feel less artful blogging here and now is one of those times. My sense of creativity is way dialed down and I find myself boring even myself. So why do I keep at it? Times like this the balance certainly feels like it tips into the zone of non-productive time online.
Something is holding me back from taking a break, though. I am tossing aside the tiny sandbags of worry over my "lack of discipline" (I am a disciple to no one/thing). I am instead focusing on a shimmer I feel on the horizon. Sometimes there's a lull and you just have to wait it out. Being grounded can feel so reassuring at times and like a burden at others.
I lie prostrate weighted with possibility. Waiting for the moment when my heart will signal my head to lift my body and continue on the path lit by my soul.
I started Married To Distraction yesterday and finished it today. I thought it started strong but ended...not with a whimper, but it kind of faded into ideas that didn't resonate with me (most significantly "God" was suddenly thrown into the mix).
The premise that the reason so many marriages/long term coupledom suffer these days is due to lack of attention (which the book defines as prevalent way above and beyond an actual ADD diagnosis) makes sense. Figuring out ways to assign/apply judgment-free constructs of how/who we are as individuals, alone and in relationship, as well as, specific to various situations, seems like a good idea...but a bit cumbersome.
The authors (a married couple one of whom has ADD) include a "workbook" at the end, 30 exercises in 30 days, designed to assist couples to reconnect. The point being that if you practice giving each other attention, empathy, understanding and play every day, or often enough, that there's no way two people committed to a lasting relationship, who once loved each other crazily, won't recapture what seems lost.
I finished the book feeling it lacked a distinct feeling of nuance/depth.
I'll be interested to get through some of the ADD books I have that I haven't finished or started (I know, go ahead and chuckle). Because reading this book made me feel less ADDish rather than more.
Onto my thinkings:
I am feeling slightly beached. Like I'm out of flow. When I pull back as far as I can, I see that this is most likely due to not receiving Vinny treatments for going on two months now. Going from weekly treatments for two years to zero for two months is taking its toll. Not to mention the silent twilight of my emotions around him which cannot even begin to touch the reality that he was so sick he almost died.
There are times that I feel less artful blogging here and now is one of those times. My sense of creativity is way dialed down and I find myself boring even myself. So why do I keep at it? Times like this the balance certainly feels like it tips into the zone of non-productive time online.
Something is holding me back from taking a break, though. I am tossing aside the tiny sandbags of worry over my "lack of discipline" (I am a disciple to no one/thing). I am instead focusing on a shimmer I feel on the horizon. Sometimes there's a lull and you just have to wait it out. Being grounded can feel so reassuring at times and like a burden at others.
I lie prostrate weighted with possibility. Waiting for the moment when my heart will signal my head to lift my body and continue on the path lit by my soul.
Saturday, October 02, 2010
Fresh feeling
Watched Love Happens this evening...it was much better than I thought it would be. It yielded a new-to-me song that touched me to the quick.
Laughing
I can't believe it's taken me so long to give this show a whirl.
Coincidentally in my Inbox this morning:
Laughter is mental, laughter is emotional, laughter is physical, and laughter is spiritual. Laughter helps us find balance. If we get too angry, laughter will turn that emotion in a balanced direction. If we have a mental picture of someone who is too strong, laughter will help ease the tension. If the body is stressed, laughter will release natural relaxants into our muscles and our nervous system. Laughter often changes our attitude. We need to lighten up and laugh more.
Off and running
I enjoyed watching this moving documentary about a teenager who contacts her birth mother, the subsequent fallout on her and her family, and eventual outcome of her coming to terms with her situation. There are some really lovely strands about family which are brought to life through Avery's story.
The documentary was followed by a few StoryCorps shorts. This one, in particular, caught my attention.
Holy (insert expletive here)!
I'm reading Married to Distraction and it is hard to put down. Luckily I have the day to myself so I don't have to.
It is sobering and a relief to see myself and familiar scenarios in these pages.
Hope your Saturday is full of light and air.
It is sobering and a relief to see myself and familiar scenarios in these pages.
Hope your Saturday is full of light and air.
Friday, October 01, 2010
O, computer
Checking e-mail, clicking through my Reader, taking pictures, listening to ELO...a blessing and a curse...a blessing and a curse.
Solo
A song from Floodplain by Kronos Quartet. Going up and down my iTunes dial searching for October sounds.
Deluge of rain for over 24 hours now, jolted from sleep around 4am by a particularly clamorous downpour. (The night before it was a single heart stopping explosive lightning strike around 3am.)
Woke up for good a few hours later, stressed. Some of the factors crystal clear, some less so. Talked to the guys and decided to send them off to Ocean City without me. Some family vacation.
It will be a weekend of much needed solitude. Some catching up of work, some Qigong/meditation, some release.
I ran out for some single gal provisions before they left with the car: root beer, spicy salmon and avocado sushi, Udi's GF pizza crusts and a bag of Daiya CF cheese, hummus, Udi's GF sandwich bread, coconut water and orange juice. Someone's thirsty.
The air is chilling down nicely and the sky is lightening though still cloudy. Looking forward to some uninterrupted sleep tonight.
Peace and love to you, hope you have a wonderful weekend.
Deluge of rain for over 24 hours now, jolted from sleep around 4am by a particularly clamorous downpour. (The night before it was a single heart stopping explosive lightning strike around 3am.)
Woke up for good a few hours later, stressed. Some of the factors crystal clear, some less so. Talked to the guys and decided to send them off to Ocean City without me. Some family vacation.
It will be a weekend of much needed solitude. Some catching up of work, some Qigong/meditation, some release.
I ran out for some single gal provisions before they left with the car: root beer, spicy salmon and avocado sushi, Udi's GF pizza crusts and a bag of Daiya CF cheese, hummus, Udi's GF sandwich bread, coconut water and orange juice. Someone's thirsty.
The air is chilling down nicely and the sky is lightening though still cloudy. Looking forward to some uninterrupted sleep tonight.
Peace and love to you, hope you have a wonderful weekend.
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