Creating Balance

I was perusing through facebook this morning; one friend is in Prescott enjoying family and a wedding, lots of people getting ready for a day of football, a couple people just getting back from vacation. It struck me that most people get through work so they can come home to their families and lives and enjoy themselves. I get through being at home so I can go back to work.

I think that must have started happening when Ang left, then I left a volunteer organization I had been deeply involved with and most of my social network went with it, then Stefan left, and now I've changed jobs. Not sure what to do but it seems like things are backward. It's weird to have single-Mom's-empty-nest syndrom when most of my friends are married and dealing with grade school.

I kind of left work up to God and that's turned out pretty good. I guess I should do the same with home.

165

165... that's my weight right now. I'm just puttin' it out there. I was watching "100 top celebrity slim downs" and with the exception of maybe two people, I weigh more than all of the women at their heaviest. This of course inspired me to begin looking at photos, past and present, of me. I have always been over weight (in my mind) but now I'm seriously over weight in reality too.

Stress, too many hours working, not enough hours sleeping, and the emotional anxiety of this last year have taken their toll. I look so much older even than a year ago. I look tired. Some days I care, most I don't.

I was thinking that this coming week I may have a lot of answers I've been looking for professionally, which could address some of the challenges I've had financially, and then I can get on track. Then it struck me, this past three years have been like that for me. One situation after another, if I could just get past it, then I could start thinking about my weight. I could lie and say, I could start thinking about my health, but I know that's not it. Other than when I thought I was having a heart attack, I haven't been to a doctor in at least three maybe four years. I haven't been to an OB/GYN in all that time, I don't take vitamins, and dinner is often whatever's in the fridge, two to three glasses of wine, or nothing.

I don't even know where to begin but 165 sucks. 165 sucks and if I don't do something it may not even be the highest number I see on the scale.

Here, There, and Everywhere

Life is too short to be serious all of the time. Bad things happen, good things happen, and somewhere along the way you have to let it go. You have to realize that if you spend your life worrying about what might happen and feeling sad about what has happened, you never really live.

I'm knocking on 40's door. Time to let it go, accept whatever happens, and start living for today. What do they say "...either get busy living or get busy dying..."? I think it's time to get busy living.

To my sisters: I love you all. I can't possibly express how much joy, peace, and richness you bring. I hope I do the same for you.

Weird Dream... Maybe

So many things have happened over the last week. Some big things but the little signs have been the things that are stuck in my mind. This is what's been happening.

I had this dream; a very strange dream. I was in some sort of class, everyone was taking a turn looking at this ruin. We were in the field, a field trip but in the jungle or something. This ruin was a cave. It was cream colored inside and had beautiful, intricate carvings that covered the entire interior surface of the cave. You had to lay down to see the carvings but when you did everything changed. Your thoughts controlled the cave. Once you were inside you became consumed with the images, almost paralyzed. The floor rose. Hopeless thoughts, sad thoughts, painful memories made the cave floor rise. You could feel the warmth of the stone, hear the soft grinding of the floor moving against the walls; the sound was mesmerizing. The more your thoughts consumed you the less room you had, the cave was suffocating you, squeezing the life out of you. You could feel it; you could feel yourself dying, blacking out, not caring.

But when you thought of joyful things the opposite happened. The more you let the joy, hope, love fill you, the more room you had. Big draws of breath, fresh air, and relief then overwhelmed you. It was interminable; fear, sorrow, hopelessness and imminent death or joy, optimism, hope and life. I don't think the message is too hard to decipher.

Fast on the heels of this dream was a beautiful, thoughtful gift from a dear friend far away, signs of others' lives moving forward, and the soft knock of opportunity. Life reinforcing what is, what is no more, and what could be. All reasons to be joyous. It's interesting to feel like God is talking directly to you.

How does he always know?

Sometimes, I feel like I hear exactly what I need to but from the oddest places. I started to write a longer post, but sometimes less is more. Suffice it to say that if you're looking for answers, just ask the questions and then pay attention. The truth will find you.

Where am I, really?

For the last few weeks I've been listening to Celine Dion (A New Day Has Come) and convincing myself that Prince Charming was just around the corner. I told myself to just be patient, to be kind, and continue imagining Mr. Right. I've pictured lots of details related to Mr. Right and imagined what life with him would be like, all the "visualization" tools you're supposed to use at work. I even convinced myself that I was being patient and just allowing myself time to work through recent challenges; that I didn't want to rush into dating again. It's true I'm not a serial-dater, nor have I ever successfully juggled dating several men at a time, but it's been eight months since I've even kissed a man.

Then today, Antonio calls out of the blue. I listened to the message, twice. He's still not right for me. I still don't want to date him again. I still called him back. He wants to have lunch. The gist of it was that he was bored driving somewhere and thought to call me. I'm a resource again and having a friendship with me looks good to his boss because of my role with the DOT. I get it. It sucks. He's the last man I kissed, the last man to make love to me, and the last man I allowed into my life. It all went horribly wrong of course and I behaved very badly. So why did that brief conversation send me into a tailspin?

I know I'm not still hung up on him but I can't seem to move past how awful that relationship was. It was wonderful, beyond words, in the beginning but it all fell apart as things evolved and I made so many mistakes. I don't want to make the same mistakes again. I don't know what I do wrong with men. I know all the logic behind my relationship woes but I'm sick to death of all of it.

Easter

Interesting... Talk about God working in mysterious ways. I started a post about my weekend, it started rough but ended great thanks to LN, Stefan, and Angie. Oddly enough, I was writing, feeling bad, and had written a fair amount about the bad part.... I lost the whole thing. I know, I know, the "non-believers" (lol) will say, "A computer glitch, Mel, does not constitute a message from God." Why not though?

Why can't God talk to us through little things that interrupt our thoughts and redirect us to what's important? LN made sure, against my initial resistence, that I had a wonderful family filled Easter. Stefan came to see me and he's happy and doing well. Angie wrote and I'll be able to talk to her soon. Blessings all, I'd say.

Everyone has heartache in life. Mine has overwhelmed me over the last year or so. I've not lost sight of my blessings though. I'm very aware of all that I have to be grateful for. It's time for me to refocus. Easter is about hope, about the resurrection of Christ, about the inability of the actions of man to overcome the will of God. We pray, some go to Church, and we recognize this holiday (holy day) but why not take it's meaning and history and apply it literally in life? Why not allow yourself to be filled with faith and courage? Can't today be the beginning of a new life? Can't everyday be a new beginning if we want it to be? We struggle, we slip and sometimes we fall but everyday that we're blessed to see a new sunrise is a day we can spend doing our best again.

The Gift

Journal Entry: January 28, 2010

"Last night was one of the most beautiful nights I've ever experienced. I'm at a hotel in Wickenburg, Arizona. It's not fair to call it a hotel. Sixty years of running a ranch, home, a family. The people here are sweet. They're kind and unassuming. The rooms are little bungalows, not too fancy, but comfortable and very "Arizona." There's a calm, a peacefulness here that is soothing to my soul. A reminder that I come from a simpler place. That life is meant, for me at least, to run at a different pace. I've become a product of my environment but I'm being drawn back to my roots; not family roots but spiritual roots. Sitting here writing, looking out over the expanse of the beautiful Arizona desert, the mountains on the horizon, I feel it calling to me. I can't remember ever feeling this before. My mind strays continually to last night.

I walked outside after dinner to be struck by the sight of the evening sky. I was in awe. I was looking at the sky as much as I was looking at the road as I made my way back to my room. I pulled the comforter off the bed and laid on the patio lounge. I stared at the moon. It was full. Watching the clouds, I whispered my question to the universe, "Mary, where are you? You can't be gone. I miss you so much. I can still feel you." Tears streaming, I watched the clouds dance across the face of the moon. The dark from the night sky played with the bright light of the moon, reflecting off the clouds.

It started as an absence of clouds, like someone had taken their finger and ran it first one way and then another; across and then down. Almost the shape of a cross but the clouds filled in some areas and left others dark. The shape of a woman formed. It was as if the woman was dancing, looking up, with her arms flung wide in abandonment and joy. Her hair was streaming around her and her face was wise, serene, like she had all the answers in the universe and was marvelling and celebrating them. I watched as the image became more and more clear. I watched it float across the moon; a fluid, graceful, ancient, female spirit.

I was distracted for a moment and looked away. When I looked back at the sky, there wasn't a cloud in sight. The night was pitch black with only the moon in a blanket of dark velvet."

Every time I look at the full moon, I think of Mary. I miss you and love you, my friend. Thank you for the gift of the moon.

Kindred Spirit

I just read a blog post written by my dearest friend. As I read it, I could feel her pain, attempt at optimism, guilt over expressing her disappointment, and hope. Hope that some day things would return to "normal." My friend is one of those people who lights up a room just by walking into it. She gives and gives and gives. She takes care of everyone but especially me.

In her post she wrote about feeling like a spectator in her life. Interestingly enough, another dear friend also wrote about life's experiences. She shared a passage that expressed that life brings you the experiences you need to have to more fully evolve as a human being. Naturally, it was much more eloquently stated than that, but the combition of writing gives me pause.

There are so many days that I have to concentrate on the next immediate thing, not looking too forward or too far back, lest I become overwhelmed. I have to concentrate on not allowing myself to get consumed with sadness. I have to keep myself so busy that I don't have time to notice how alone I am. I don't want to become one of those people other people dread hearing from.

I look back sometimes at the things I'm doing, at what I'm trying to accomplish, and I think "Wow, that's pretty cool." I kind of feel some times like I am making a difference, like I might actually be helping people, and that maybe someone somewhere is feeling encouraged by what I'm doing. I watch, like a spectator, like my friend's post. It's all just going by. It's felt like that for so long. What if that's just life? What if my lessons or experiences never lead to more than this? What if I end up the crazy old lady with all the dogs?

Tourist

Ah to be a tourist. Maybe someday I'll get to stay.

Happy Women's History Month

To the women who have inspired me:
Jackie
Deirdre
Ellen
Angie (two)
KellyAnne
Mary O'Connor
Mary Peters
Laurie
Marie
Debora
Elizabeth (many)
Desiree
Meryl
Laura
Sheila
and to all the heroines within literature... cheers to those who created our fantastic fictitious inspirations.

Why does it matter? Or... Confessions from a Stalker

I did a presentation today. For about a hundred people or so. There were heads of companies, the head of the Arizona Division office for FHWA, and tons of people from my new agency. It went well. Very well in fact. The President of my ex-boyfriend's company was the facilitator for the meeting though. I couldn't help it. My heart skipped a bit when I read the company name on the business card. He asked me bio information and of course Flagstaff came up, then my old high school, apparently he went to school there as well, then of course my ex's brother and then my ex. What a slippery slope. I made some neutral comments about them being nice guys. Yada yada yada. Damn!

Before I even made to my next meeting I had a txt from my ex. Thanks for the good words about their company or something to that affect. Easy, flirty banter for awhile followed by silence. So I'm online FBing and decide to search his name. I won't add him or his brother as friends but I wanted to peek at his current pictures (weird how you can do that). I suppose I got what I deserved. There he was with his new girlfriend, maybe more than that even. He'd recently updated pictures from Thanksgiving, Christmas, and even had a picture in his profile pics of the two of them together.

She's cute. Blonde, big blue eyes, tiny. She was with him and his family for the holidays, like I was the year before. While I sat at home feeling desperately alone and pathetic on Thanksgiving, he was hosting his family at his house and she was with him. While I was barely staving off a nervous breakdown over Christmas, trying not to think about losing my house, my son, and having my brother reintroduce his alcoholism to my life, my ex was celebrating with his new love and his little boys.

He's kind of an ass. More than kind of. But he's been able to replace me pretty quickly. He's found another person to share his life with and I'm alone. Me and my dogs, living for moments I get to see Stefan. I'd be lost without my friends that's for sure but it's not the same as love. It's not a hug at the end of a long day, a kiss good night, intimacy. I can't do it though. I'm raw over the happenings of the last year, including what happened with him. I'm heavy, I hate the way I look, I hate feeling damaged still. I know what I need in a man, and certainly he was not it, but I can't seem to keep the hurt from my heart at how quickly I was replaced. She's cute. He's happy. I know all things come in their own time but I wonder if I'll be alone forever. Sometimes it feels like it.

Faith, Yoda, and the Meaning of Life

"... well the anxiety I get, but panic attacks we need to discuss..." says Dr. B
"I get them when I think of something happening to Stefan or death."
"Stefan I understand but tell me about death," Dr B
"Thinking about death gives me a panic attack. It's weird, I have such strong faith," I say steepling my hands in front of me and nodding slightly (don't know why I do that), "But when it comes to dying? I have such a hard time believing... I don't know, in afterlife or ... I just think we end." It sounds like a cop out to me as I say it. Kind of like being agnostic "well, I'll believe if I see proof..."

Dr. B laughs a little and explains something about me being existentialist something or other. Apparently a very deep thinker, like a philosopher, which means I could be really smart but likely depress myself. Now, that's funny. It did get me to thinking though. My favorite character from Star Wars is Yoda. My favorite Yoda quote is, "Do or do not. There is no try." Sounds kind of like faith to me. If your faith only extends to what you perceive some amount of control over (i.e. your life), then how strong is that faith? Not very.

You believe or you don't. It's like Miracle on 34th Street. That part when the handsome young lawyer decides to defend Santa and the department store starts the campaign, "Do you believe?" Then all those people all over the city start putting out their signs and gathering in crowds and even wearing symbols of their faith. I get so happy in that part of the movie, it always makes me cry. I bounce up and down, clasping my hands, and cheer (the dogs think I'm crazy but that's okay). I'm thinking, "I believe! I believe!"

And it is faith. You either believe and trust and listen to your heart... completely ... or you don't. There is no half way.

Happy Birthday to Me

Yesterday was my Birthday... Yay! I'm such a little kid about Birthdays. It was a wonderful day filled with many gifts. I learned that something I've been working on with a friend may help save their organization, KAG started her blog with a bang, Jackie, LN, and KAG all changed their profile pictures on FB to pictures of us together and I got tons of very bright sunny Birthday wishes. Stefan also called and was precious about giving advice and wanting to take care of me from afar. Not to mention I had the best evening out I've had in a very long time.

LN rescues me in many ways she doesn't realize or take credit for. She came to my house, boys, wonderful hubby, and even their little Jack Russel Terrier, Roscoe in tow. They came laden with gifts; a hat since I've started wearing hats, beautiful sun and moon decorations, and a handmade silver necklace with "Stefan" and "USMC" engraved on it. That was just the beginning though.

Her husband dropped us off at my favorite restaurant in the world, Malee's in old town Scottsdale, where a VERY handsome man kept us company while we toasted the start of our evening sitting at the bar waiting for our table. Then we had a wonderful dinner and headed over to Su Vino for dessert of Porto Cocoa (DEFINITELY taking KAG and Jackie there when they come to see me).

Porto Cocoa is the most decadent dessert wine that has ever been created, it's a dark red port infused with cocoa. It smells like dark chocolate, is smoother than silk, and is mine and LN's favorite way to celebrate. From there we went to little dive bar to listen to my favorite band and even had the opportunity to meet the band! They were so cool. We danced and did shots, the lights went out, there was this giant ferocious looking doorman that I kept making laugh... LN was a riot, dancing, laughing, doing shots. She even broke up a would-be tussle after hours between the band guys and the owner of the bar! Talk about super woman!

Okay, so admittedly getting to bed at 3:00 a.m. with a 7:30 Jasper wake up call wasn't exactly pleasant. The fact that he let us sleep for another hour and a half after that was great though. A little foggy, a little nauseous, and poor LN in even worse shape speaks volumes to the fact that we are no longer twenty-somethings. However, a surprise bonus to the evening was my self-confidence tentatively peaking back at me.

I've gained a lot of weight lately. If I were looking at it objectively, I'd probably say things have been a little rough the past year and that it's taken its toll on my physical health. I don't look at it objectively though and I've been disgusted with myself every time I look in the mirror (way harsh, I know). The "pretty, fun girl" in me had left. Last night she made a brief reappearance. We got lots of attention... from lots of different guys. Sounds shallow but I left the house feeling like an overweight, past-her-prime, woman and ended the evening feeling desired, flattered, and attractive. Oddly, that's more motivation to take care of my health than all the self-berating in the world could do!

So thanks, LN, for forcing me back, to KAG for joining us and for starting it with such a bang, and to Jackie for being wonderful too. I feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Last Straw

I keep thinking things are getting better and then something else happens. Every time I start to get my footing, start to try to make sense of things, something else happens. I can't think, I can't concentrate, I just work. When I come home, I sleep. I sleep until I can get up and go to work again. At work things make sense, things are coming together, and it's exciting. Of course who knows how the President's news will impact things. If there are no projects ....

Stefan leaves in June. He's going to be going to Japan, then Thailand or New Zealand, then Iraq or Afghanistan. He'll be back in January... maybe. "They don't do long deployments anymore" but part of the time he'll be at sea and we'll go months at a stretch without being able to talk to him. Focus on the adventure of it for him, right? My mind agrees but my heart aches.

My Mom called yesterday, at work of course, to tell me how awful I look and how worried my brother is. Like an accusation. Then she brought up an illness I had a few years ago and started talking like she was sure that it's back and I need "treatment." My God, like telling me I'm going to die is going to help with stress right now?

Then I was looking for an email I sent and I ran across a bunch of emails from Mary. It was right around the last time I saw her and she was talking about her friend Terry. Terry had just died after a long fight against breast cancer. Mary was so sad, in shock, but loving and needing support herself for once. I'm numb. I can't even cry anymore. This is so not about me. So many people lost her, not just me. Guilt on top of grief. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. What am I supposed to do?

So many other little catastrophes some with big impacts and I'm numb still. I can't process anything. In the big scheme of things do they matter? Probably not but they have to be dealt with now, with energy I don't seem to possess.

For some reason it hasn't been "the" straw yet. I don't know why God thinks this is good for me. I can't see what's around the corner from here but I'll keep plugging away, hoping and praying, and things will get better. That kernel of hope is hard to squelch. As I read this, I make myself sick. Where's that eternal voice of optimism? Where did I go? It's amazing that I have any friends left. I wouldn't want to be around me.

I'm going to start wearing hats...

Mary's funeral was today. I wasn't surprised by the number of people that were in attendance, but I was surprised by the number of people who apparently knew Mary the same way I did. Same way in that she made everyone's life she chose to be a part of feel special, loved, and moved by her generosity. There were few dry eyes, hundreds of friends, and almost as many family members.

There were a number of epiphanies I felt strike me throughout the day. How much I love Ellen and would be lost without her eternal optism, support, and humor. I felt more "Catholic" than I have in a long time. The church was a comfort, the Mass familiar and soothing, the words and movements coming automatically. I also kept noticing this elegant, if somewhat defiant looking, older lady in a voluminous cloak with a silver adornment at the nape, wearing a hat.

I love hats. I go to the department store and try them on. I love big sun hats and caps, hats for warmth and hats for fun. I love the colors and textures and patterns. They make me smile. They're daring, in of and themselves, and bold. I don't generally wear hats. Maybe I'll wear a ball cap if it's summer and I'm running around on the weekend or I'll wear a sun visor if I go hiking. But those are good reasons to wear a hat, appropriate even. They seem too ostentacious for me. I am no fashionista. I'm not thin or beautiful. I'm not glamorous or mysterious, well traveled, particularly well read, or even just striking. Who am I to where a hat?

Regardless of all those truths, life is too short to make yourself "qualify" for what makes you happy. Even if I am none of those things, like Mary with her love of jewelery, big colorful bags, great wine, and adventures, I'm going to enjoy the little things in life that bring me pleasure. So, starting now, I'm going to start wearing hats.

Things we remember

Ganesha is the most recognizable god of the Hindu religion. This brave guardian is beheld today as the most auspicious God of new beginnings. He is worshipped during every festival and before people undertake a journey or embark on a new venture. You will also see him carefully guarding entrances to temples and homes. He is consider to be a remover of obstacles and a deliverer of good fortune.

Mary loved Ganesha. She sought out items possessing his image and often referred to using Ganesha symbols to remove obstacles from her life as she embarked on new projects or embraced change of some sort. I remember researching its meaning and history after a conversation with her over breakfast one morning. As we usually did, we met for breakfast and Wild Flower and then walked over to Changing Hands to look at books. She loved books. She loved little miniature journals, the more decorative the better and she was especially pleased if she found one with hand-made paper inside.

She loved tie-dye, these light green stones that I can't remember the name of, and was in a purple phase. She was on a quest for the perfect purple scarf. We were looking at them together one morning; this one too dark, this one too light, that one not enough blue, the other too much. I found the perfect scarf for her for Christmas, and a great cook book because she loved to cook and we were going to start cooking together sometimes just for fun, and a little tiny journal with Ganesha on the cover. I found a pretty card and wrote in it how much her friendship meant to me.

The gift sits on my dining room table still. I can't bear to touch it or put the things away. I suppose I could keep the scarf, write in the journal, and maybe LN would like the cook book. I can't disassemble her gift though. I want to give her her things. I want to see her face when she realizes that I was watching which purples she liked and which she didn't and that I found the perfect color. I want to see her smile when she sees the little Ganesha, hear her laugh when we talk about what we should make first, and see her eyes fill when she reads the card. I want her to know what it feels like to have someone notice the little things that you like. I want her to know she was so special that she deserved a million-fold what I could give her with my second-hand books and trade-in credit purchases.

She'll never know now and while I'm sure many people did many things for her, I didn't. I didn't and now she's gone and I can't.

Goodbye My Friend

The last post was written over a week ago. I had to put the finishing touches on it before putting it out to the world, and so had not published. So much has changed since I began writing that. I wanted to honor where my thoughts and feelings were then, however, before writing again based on recent events.

M, Mary, Mary O'Connor, is gone. She died last Friday. She was visiting her niece in Washington, DC and her niece came home from work to find her dead. I don't know what happened yet or any details of her service.

I was angry with my brother this morning. He made a comment last night that infuriated me. Just before Christmas a buddy of his from South Dakota died. He was a young guy with a family; someone my brother would hang out with occasionally. He was driving in a snow storm and lost control of his truck on the ice. He slid into a pole and was killed. I don't know if he was drinking or not but from what Lee tells me it was likely. Lee made the mistake of saying that he knew how I felt, in losing Mary, because he had dealt with the same thing in losing his buddy. I was so furious I couldn't speak.

How dare he compare some young guy he would party with once in a while to my relationship with Mary. I slept on it, stewed about a bunch of other things that have been going woefully wrong, and then spoke with him this morning. Just so he was clear, I explained to him, Mary was NOT like his buddy. She wasn't just some random friend I would do things with now and again. I had known Mary for nearly thirteen years and over the past several years she had been more of a Mother to me, more family to me, than my own had been.

I saw Mary at least once a week, sometimes more. She never missed an important event, she never forgot my Birthday, she didn't have to be coerced into being there for me, she just was. She loved me. She was wise and warm and wonderful. She counseled me through some of the most difficult times in my life. She let me cry and worry and vent. She made me laugh and was generous with her time, patience, and spirit. She offered her support, emotionally and financially, when my "family" couldn't be bothered. She never took but always gave. She loved music, wine, laughter, art, and her community. She was part of the fabric of more than just my life. Everyone knew her and everyone loved her. She was Mother to me. My own doesn't really care, doesn't remember my Birthday, can't attend events, would rather be married to my molester than be mother to me.

I know she's gone but she can't be gone. My friends all have lives. They have children and families, jobs and homes, things that they have to focus on. I'm an intruder. Even when they welcome me and I know they're sincere, I'm not family not really. Now that Mary's gone I feel so alone. I miss her so much. I can't believe I'll never again hear the sound of her voice, listen to her wisdom, or share laughter and wine with her. I feel hallow. Did she even know how much she meant to me? How much she meant to everyone?

Four Muses

I drafted a post and then read it and decided to start over. My original post was negative. It spoke of my frustrations. It spoke of all the things I'm struggling to adjust to and work through. I always have so many things going on at once. I can't slow down. For all the million things I've committed to, there are a million more I feel guilty for not pursuing.

I decided to start over today because if it's true that we attract what we put out into the world, I need to focus on what's right in my world as opposed to what's wrong in it. So what's right in my world? For one thing my four muses. Muses are described in Greek mythology as goddesses of art and science. They were the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory. These goddesses were muses of tragedy, history, various types of poetry, music, dancing, astronomy, and harmony.

I have four modern day muses. These wonderful women inspire me and possess qualities that I don't think they even realize they possess. Ms. LN is my muse of hearth, home, and family. She embodies generousity and joy. She gives selflessly, without hesitation, and brings sunshine into every life she touches. From day-to-day, she is my solice and comfort when I've lost hope. She is my closest sister.

M is my muse of history, accountability, self-awareness, and honesty. M embodies what it means to be responsible for yourself and the impact you have on the world around you. She cares. She's intelligent, respected, and diligent in her awareness of what can be versus what is and what will be if we do nothing. She is warm and bold, doesn't avoid the difficult, and is ever ready to help. She doesn't offer her allegiance or friendship lightly and once received, it is something to be deeply treasured. She believes in a circle of grandmothers that guide us spiritually. Envisioning these wise, timeless, women engenders a vision of who M is herself; timeless, wise, unruffled, practical, patient, and loving.

KAG is my muse of knowing. She's mysterious. I described her recently as having characteristics similar to Mata Hari. She's "spies like us" in a real world of high-level, self-important people. She's the woman behind the curtain, the imp laughing at the absurdity of it all, and the mirth realizing that none of it really matters anyway.

Ms. J represents the world that is unseen. She's such a deeply spiritual person, such a giving, and joyous person. I have a connection with her that reminds me that all is not what it appears to be. It reminds me to celebrate living and to not fear death. Ms J reminds me that we all have a song in our hearts, a dance to undertake with pure abandon, and that a woman lives within that is tied to an ancestry, a history of healers, teachers, mothers, daughters, and lovers who have suffered but survived. Not only did they survive, they ensured the survival of those around them. We are a part of that. As women, that is what we bring into the world, and it is ancient and pure, wild and powerful, and both our essence and legacy in this life.

Puppies and Afghanistan

I'm preparing for a hike, sort of. I'm meeting a friend in a while, sadly a friend who wants to be more than friends. I have to tell him today that that just can't happen. He's so bright, amazing education, funny, and sweet. But, he's not for me. My life seems to be a series of dramas over the past few years. It's not changing. The layers of complication are there, will probably always be there. His life, at least how his life appears, is that of a person who has grown up with every privelege. My partner needs to be able to relate to my life without judgement and without me worrying about being judged.

Jasper barely let me sleep last night. I'm tired but decided to get up early anyway to try to get a jump on my day. I'm frustrated after last night. Lee got antsy and went to a sports bar. We didn't have a lot of cash but he went anyway and spent what we had. He took change with him too. That seemed so sad to me. I wish we were in a position so that if he wanted to go out he just could. He had been drinking beer before he left and you could tell he was well on his way to a good buzz. He called from the bar and wanted me to come over there. He said it was so I could hang out with him and listen to bands but it wasn't. It was because he wanted me to come and use my visa/debit card to pay so he could stay out longer. When I said no, he came home and tried to convince me again. I said no again and he took his dog in the room but left shortly after I went to bed. I don't know where he went. He could have walked back to the bar or just walked his dog but I have a feeling he went back to the bar. I felt awful because I took my purse and keys and put them in my room. I want to trust him. I believe that this time can be different but when he drinks, he's different. He doesn't think responsibly and he's big, big and intimidating. I have to talk to him about this but I don't know how.

My mind is heavy with that, rather than get some work done, I'm distracted. I'm surfing amazon looking for books about Afghanistan and how to raise puppies. I think Jasper was too young to leave his Mom just yet but now that he's here we have to figure out how to make it work. Kind of like Lee. I love my brother so much. He's got such a good heart and he's had such a difficult life. We have to make this time different.

Hello 2010!

Well, 2010 should certainly be an interesting year if the first day was any indication of what's ahead. We started the year with getting lost in the desert, adopting a puppy, and learning that I might become a Grandmother!

Where to begin? I went hiking yesterday, as the tour guide for my brother Lee, niece Jessica, and my niece's visiting boyfriend Josh, I was in charge of picking the trails in a familiar mountain preserve. Sadly, I was not as familiar as I had imagined because I got us lost. One wrong turn after another, hiking across raw desert in the hopes of getting back to the main trails, and packs of wild animals was NOT what I had in mind when I suggested the outing! Lee and Josh were fine, with the exception of losing Jessica and I repeatedly, but Jessica, who is far from the avid outdoors person, was ragged by the time we finally found our way back to the parking lot. Inside of the two and half hours we spent hiking, we almost ran out of light and got stranded in the dark, my brother's dog fell into some cactus, our party got separated, and Jessica and I had a bunch of coyotes circling us. I think everyone was relieved to make it out alive!

On our way into the reserve, there was a woman with a basket of puppies. One in particular really caught my eye so I decided he should be mine. I decided to name him Jasper. Jasper's six weeks old and is a lab/pit bull mix. It was an impulsive decision but with Lee living with me now it'll be great. He has a pit bull puppy that is about three or four months old. His dog is too big to play with my ShiTzus, Dinky and Dolly, and needs a companion. I've also always wanted a big dog and with my brother here, it'll be easier to have one. Our first night was spent waking up every two or three hours to go outside and lots of whimpering. I hope he gets adjusted more by the time I have to start my new job on Monday.

After driving Jessica and Josh back to my Mom's we picked up my son, Stefan. Stefan's nineteen and a Marine. He's going to be deployed (likely) in February to Afghanistan. I'm so torn when he's here. I have to maintain boundaries as his Mom but I also want to see him and want him to be happy. That was part of a mini drama New Year's eve. He wanted to take my car out and I wouldn't let him. As a result he ended up staying with his girlfriend, Camille. After we got home last night, he dropped a bomb in that Camille's worried that she's pregnant. Great. I'm 38 and possibly going to be a Grandmother? Not something I'd relish right now. Neither of them have their own vehicles, Camille's still in high school, she doesn't have a job, and they have no clue what it would take to raise a child. They're not capable of taking care of themselves right now let alone take care of a baby. My most fervent hope is that the only baby in our immediate future is Jasper!