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Windows, doors…all ways in and ways out, and important in our lives both physically and metaphorically. I have seen doors not just slam shut, but implode before me, leaving me left to pull pieces of splintered wood and glass from my heart, but no matter how hard it has been, there has always been a window, albeit one I might have to smash with my bare hands to get through. The doors and windows in my life now are welcoming and clear, and that’s a very good feeling.

And A Door
St. Elmo, Colorado.

Quote of the day: “When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.” — Helen Keller

Daily gratitudes:
Tattered Cover’s broccoli-cheese soup
MKL
A strange tinge of fall in the air
Surprises
The sunlight on the wings of wheeling flocks of birds

Her Love

I watch your heart break from a distance
And there is nothing I can do.

Not.

One.

Thing.

When you were small,
I could cuddle you
And make you giggle
And kiss your tears away
And you would be all better.

Now, my touch at the sight of your tears
Makes you angry,
And the choices you never made
Are making you hurt.

It’s a pain we all go through.
You’ve seen it near break me.
And when it happens to you,
You think no one can know how you feel.

But we do.
We all do.

That doesn’t make it any easier.
I wish it did.

I so wish
I could.

Love Last__

She looked and saw
and silently loved,
outside of confusion,
understanding only what lived in her heart
though others were dismissive.

She tried to stop,
but there is no stopping
a true feeling;
only time can do that.
But time, for her,
feels like an ancient turtle
crossing an L.A. freeway.

Never gonna happen.

She reached out,
that whole heart
carefully and cautiously
crafted into well-placed
words from the soul
which were met with silence
silence
silence
silence
silence.

And now, she nestles,
silently,
Against my shoulder,
A few teardrops being
the only words she has to say.

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This was a week of nightmares, destroyed dreams, and lives forever changed. The damage done this week to children, parents, families, and communities is irreparable.

Many of us who are not intimate with this tragedy will go on with our lives, the holidays, and return to joy.  A small piece of my heart has left me now, and is with those parents who are going through unthinkable. Yes, their little sons and daughters experienced unimaginable fear in their last moments, and the thought of that is impossible, especially for those parents.

Those little people are little souls looking out for their parents now.  But those parents, agonizing over what their child must have been feeling, and devastated by all the reminders of future and promise, now nothing but dust – for them, there is no peace. Christmas presents never to be opened.  No more bedtime hugs from a small warm body made from the love of two people.  No more laughter. No more hope. No more….anything. Just pain and tears and loss.

I am grateful every day that my daughter is still here, and that I have the privilege of having her in my life and in this world. Not every parent is as fortunate, and for them, my heart bleeds. I wish I could make it better, but I can’t.

Nothing will.

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I am extremely tired tonight, and that means I can get teary for no reason… but there is always a reason somewhere in the heart, isn’t there?

My heart and dreams have been rejected, nay, stomped on, but I am turning my face back to the sun, and starting to trust again.  That makes me happy.  It has taken a while.

Tonight is a perfect example of why I do not have smoke detectors.  I cooked a steak.  If I had smoke detectors, they would all be going off. All of them. Seriously. Way, way off.

I love the long way home – I don’t even think it’s any longer than the other ways home.  But the roads are winding, and I get to pass my one of my favorite trees.  And horses.  And a little old abandoned farmhouse that I would love to call my own. And have amazing views of the mountains and the clouds.  They matched tonight, with just a band of lemon sky in between them.

The earthquakes disturbed me last night and today.  Not physically. Well, not exactly.  I got home right around the time it was happening, but I wasn’t aware of it, though I think we were close enough to feel it. But the cat…aaaarrrrgh.  She was feeling  the “disturbance in the force”.  She would NOT leave me alone.  Lick my eyelids, sit on my head, bite my feet.  Sounds like a porn movie gone very, very wrong, doesn’t it?  I finally got her to settle down on the other side of the bed, so that I was not inhaling cat hair all night long.  But I still didn’t sleep – I might have had two hours of half-sleep, in which I had dreams I didn’t like or  understand.  And something was missing from my recessed brain.  I’ve had a presence that makes me happy in the background of my dreams for the previous five nights, and its absence was noticeable.  So between the dreams and the missing connection, I tossed and turned, too hot, too cold, all over the map.  Ugh.  I’m so tired I HAVE to sleep tonight, or it will be like Oban all over again.

I haven’t had a random post in a long time.  I had a lot more to say that I thought of when I was driving home, but after the near-fire and whatever, I’ve forgotten.  Which means they’ll show up for another dose of randomness sometime soon.

Statuesque Rattler

I am carved of honeyed
Butter alabaster,
Shaped and gentled,
Curved
Into something new.

An old soul of a snake
Shedding skin
Revealing fragile freshness
Leaving behind
A useless coverlet,
Brittle and sheer.

I move through barren landscapes
With gentle forcefulness,
Solitary
Kind
But a wary shapeshifter

And you must earn my trust
As I am
Lusciously strong
But no longer
Easily taken.

Choix du Coeur

Shall I wear widow’s weeds?

Drape the mirrors in black crepe
so I cannot see the age and pain
in my reflection?
so my soul
does not get trapped
within the glass?

Shall I pad the carpets
so my footfalls
are silent?

All in mourning for
years of dreams
cast aside
by a callow
sleight of hand?

Perhaps so,
on chilled and rainy March days
when it seems the warmth is lost
forever.

For the remaining days, though,
I will wear the colors of the Caribbean
and hope my eyes reflect the sun.
I will trace my fingers through
imaginary sand
and watch as light falls
into remembered seas
growning new again.

Do you believe in soulmates?

I did.  I don’t know if I still do or not. 

My dear friend sent me this quote:

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master…”

It’s from Eat, Pray, Love – a book my former flame bought for me and encouraged me to read.  I started it on a plane with him, but felt it wasn’t the right time for me to read it.  It’s still on my shelf.  My friend who sent me the quote and I laughed about this because she’s done the same thing.  Neither of us like hopping on bandwagons when they’re at their most popular. 

I did feel like I had found my soulmate.  As I’m emerging from the exquisitely painful and pleasurable ether of that lost relationship,  trying to come to terms with loss, and trying to make a fresh start, I am thinking a lot about that feeling.

I was a dream.  I was a breaking away.  I was a fantasy come to life.  I opened doors and souls and possibilities that had only lived in dreams before.  I was ready to be a partner.

And BAM.

I didn’t fit into the real world, the world as it stood.  I had to be hidden.  I was a living symbol of a loss of honor and an established way of life.  I was a reminder of shame and devastation and confusion – instead of what I truly was – a breath of change, an awkward angel, a chance to pursue something brave and beautiful and risky and scary in the company of an equal partner. Great change requires a journey of the soul, and it is not always fun, easy or comfortable.  But in the end, it is always rewarding.

Enough people in the old life thought of me as a bad, evil person – and these are people who had never even met me.  I guess if you hear that message enough, and if your fear is great enough, you come to believe it.  You no longer see with your own eyes, and no longer feel with your own heart (thanks, Einstein).  Sticking up for me was not an option.  And so you take the easy, safe route.  You take the interstate instead of the road less travelled.  Because you cannot bear to dive into the reflection of your own soul that a soulmate offers you.  Yes, there are things you did not expect to see there, and things that are hard to deal with, but being human and growing means that you do deal with those things, do accept your own faults and the faults of others, let go so you can open up to your own inner and outer worlds when you have the chance before you.  And do it with your truest friend and staunchest supporter by your side.

You no longer believe in yourself or in the potential that life offered you.  Instead of leaping, you retreated back to a safe distance from the edge, now never to experience that joyous, floating, drifting, falling, hand in hand with someone with whom you could explore the world and yourself, someone open, someone who, when you hit that net together, would be laughing with you from the deepest recesses of your shared spirits.

That’s what you chose.

And that’s why I’m not sure I believe in soulmates any longer.

But then again —  it’s all a leap of faith.

Silence

words.

nothing more than words.

All those feelings that poured like
Puerto Rican rain

From our lips and fingers and souls
now just

Words

Words
written in ink of surprising weakness
on tear-soaked paper

now dissolved
into fragile
tiny
fragments

Floating in the salty swollen sea.

I’m at that awkward age between birth and death.

I think I’ve seen that on a bumper sticker.  I know I heard it from Kelsea’s lips a couple of days ago.  I am certain that it applies to me just as surely as it applies to a 14-year old.

I’m at that age where I can no longer tell if someone is being nice to me because I am a “woman of a certain age” or because they find me attractive.  Maybe it’s because I don’t know if I see myself as an attractive, desirable woman any more.  And if I don’t, I don’t think that anyone else will.  Being dumped is a real ego-killer.

My dear friend AOW recently explored the “Who am I” question on her blog.  There’s no one answer to the “WAI” question.  And who you are changes over time.  It’s fluid.  Since I’ve restarted therapy, we talk a lot about valuing myself.  I understand that on an intellectual level, and I say in my head, “of course I value myself”.  But I am suspicious – I suspect I don’t really know what that means.

Have I really spent my entire life jumping from relationship to relationship looking for safety, protection, validation?  I feel like I have spent a lot of my life alone, even though I’ve been in relationships most of the time since I was 18.  I feel like I’ve “made it on my own” – moving across the country, finishing school, getting jobs.   My ex-husband never contributed and supported (or protected) me.  I always thought I did it myself.  No one else ever contributed financially, that’s for sure.

But now, it really feels like I’m alone for the first time.  In the past, when I was single, I still had my parent’s support.  Sometimes, it feels like that’s one of the things I’ve had for so many years that’s missing now – daily contact with someone who loves me.

As I say, I rationally understand that the person who loves me with whom I need daily contact is me.  I’m working hard at understanding how to value myself, why my past relationships were examples of how I wasn’t valued, and why I allowed that to be acceptable behavior.  In short, I am doing the work I need to do in order to not make the same mistakes in the next relationship – assuming there is one.  And doing the work to understand the joy of just being me – alone.

Good for me!

November 2019
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