Not Your Typical Emily

on the mat

2012-01-28T09:08:00.003-05:00

she mentioned the word:
unavailable
on
off
the mat
infrontofthedesk
behind friday night wet eyes
surface cleaning
the weeks kitchen

vibrate
vibration
higher vibrations
buzz this way
that
a
k
eme
w
a
k
eme
t
not wanting to wake
sleepingirls
where they
lay

a lone ranger
ranger girl
range
whose are you in
if
unavailable
un
u
without
aim

buzzes

Born to be human

2012-01-25T12:49:00.002-05:00

This is one of those days that I wish I knew the answer to my lifes mystery.
I'm a believer that we've been born with a purpose.
Maybe that's to be the most excellent dishwasher in history or maybe it's to be a rock star...but we've got the answers we carry the questions to inside.
And inside, everyday, those questions pop up. Often time it's the running script we listen to when our senses aren't being bombarded with media, family or co-workers...it's our samskara's --our listening grooves on the worst teenage mixed-tape-- playing over and over again. Making us think too much. Making us cry. Recreating mini-wars to our own drama.
Of course they're are actions to help counteract this cyclic behavior: meditation and mantra are the first two that pop into my mind. That's why my teenage mixed tape has become a lovely mix of elevator music and singing Kumbaya.

Other times our questions or my questions in particular seem to verbally shout to me:
PAY ATTENTION DREAMY-GIRL! by bringing forth a lying co-worker or explosive argument with loved ones, leading me to wonder : why?

Why when you can do right action, right words, right thoughts, that still there can be
conflict in the midst of peace? Being almost 40, I humbly accept this is a fact of life if you are not living on an ashram or seclusion from the world...but I do wonder at what point do you drop the conflict of others? I think there's a balance of dropping the most conflicted friends with less conflicted friends, but when you live with family and friends--there's bound to be sketchy emotions. I suppose it's humanity.

Maybe that's my answer: I was born to be human.
At least today.

With wheels

2011-12-28T08:05:00.000-05:00

Well, I am the proud owner of a new car...at least new to me.
It was one of those moments, outside of the fact of my last post, that I just "knew" this car was for me.
The woman was the 2nd owner--took great care of it and drove/drives great!
So--there you go...I'm finally with wheels again, but did it all by myself--for the first time ever.

I just have never cared about buying a car. I never saved up for a car, unlike my brother who started saving at 14. I saved up for bikes--but wheels...hmmm. Crazy.
I always wanted my license, but just never had the desire to actually go that next step.
I suppose I was stuck at that place, because my family has always been very willing to share their time
and vehicles with me too. And every time I would talk about buying a car, they'd be like:
Oh just drive this until....

And so I did.

But, I feel good about this.
About this next step into adulthood--even if I'm 20 years late. I know my family was only trying to take care of me and helping me monitarily, but at a certain point--you just gotta suck it up and know what you need/want and do it.

So--there I am.
Here I am
So Ham.
Om.

Crossing my fingers

2011-12-23T07:22:00.002-05:00

This morning I am supposed to go look at a car. Well, a Honda Pilot.
It's 2004--so old enough with plenty of miles, I can pretty much afford it.
Honestly, at this point--as long as it runs--I feel open to buying it today.
On the spot.
I've realized, through all my wanting of not needing a car--in all reality, I do.

I don't need it in the way someone who commutes everyday,
but in the way of getting my girls easily somewhere and not telling everyone
my whereabouts.
That's been the most annoying thing at this point--I'm not hiding where I'm going,
but I feel 16--asking for someone to take me to point A and not knowing
if I'll get to point B.
Ug.

So--hopefully--it all goes well.
Om. xoxo

scrapyard man

2011-12-20T17:13:00.001-05:00

i fell in love with
the scrapyard man
running around
walking on my hands

i bellowed your song
from the souls of my shoes
letting go of
housewife blues

i fell in love with
the scrapyard man
choosing to believe
in alternate views

with your hand around
my waist
and a bow in my hair
i stared at the ice cream
attempting to share
what not to say
to a woman who wears
the ring
of another

with your front to my back
and silent words in my ears
i fell in love with
the scapyard man
who's brought me to tears

sharing a dance
jumping to run
your shotgun love
brought me back home.

achey abundance

2011-12-13T12:22:00.000-05:00

walking home in an achey coat
i thought about the hair
left in the bathroom sink
early in the AM

placing in abundance
gratitude
placing out annoying
blahness

glad to have hair
kids with hair
brushes to brush our hair
healthy coloring hair

wondering on an achey couch
how life looks
if we turn it outside in
inside
out

Days of my life

2011-12-12T14:56:00.000-05:00

So I'm home sick today.
It's really to bad that sick days are wasted on being sick, because
I'd much rather be running around in the cold sunshine and making
jewelry with a yoga break.
But--instead, I'm listening to a lot of bad TV during my rest.

Bad TV.
Well--I don't know if it's bad, but not my typical.
I spent the morning watching comedies and then found myself turning to
Days of Our Lives at 1pm.

Probably like many my age, I grew up watching soap operas with my mom.
I have memories linked to Days...Bo & Hopes wedding song, watching
Roman return when I was at WSU, plus many more that mean nothing in my
actual life.
So today, as I'm laying on the couch trying to make myself fall asleep--I turned on Days--realizing that these SAME people, voices--are easy to listen to. I know the story.
They live. They die. They come back with more drama. It's a simplicity defined.

And then...I fell asleep.
With a needed rest, I woke up realizing it was ok to cancel yoga class tonight.
Sick is sick and I don't need to pass this on. I'm not dying sick, just enough
that I know I'm blah and I want to try not to get sick because Santa
comes to the library this week to entertain 100 kids.

Ciao.

What does peace look like?

2011-12-02T08:02:00.001-05:00

Stringing peace cranes

648 counting

behind my desk

he asked what i was doing

without chance i explained

the story

Sadako

in remembrance of 9/11

offering hope

love

in place of misguided anger

without chance he explained
the story
of his migrant life
here

working the turkey kill room
because his brother was murdered a month ago
and now he's in customer service
with hope
love

moving forward

looking like peace

2011-11-25T16:06:00.001-05:00

It seemed this year more people were cheerier about thanksgiving.
Maybe more people were ready for a break from work.
Maybe more people are ready to be done of this year, move onto the holidays and
start all over next year.

Or maybe it's just me. I just genuinely felt that when I wished someone Happy Thanksgiving, they
happily said it back.
Unlike wishing someone Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas.
Those words often remind people of what isn't done in their household, before the final blow.
At least in my opinion.

This year, I've decided I'm not going to worry as much about what I get my girls.
We started by doing a little Black Friday shopping.
I hadn't planned on it.
Honestly, I despise shopping--alot of WANT for not much NEED.
But, my Austin, Tx cousins were in town and they always try to do something special for my girls.
The special this year: Black Friday shopping at 6am.
We opted out of the midnight shopping.
We like to sleep too much and I think it's personally wrong to not give employees an entire day off.

So--off we went to Department stores before the sun was up.
I bought things the girls picked up and put down, so they honestly don't know what I bought for them.
Plus, we did some online shopping too. I still have plenty to do--oh with two dec. birthdays coming up...
but I do feel thankful for my girls wanting me to go shopping with them...
and enjoying family time together.

Then tonight--gonna meet up for a drink because one of my best friends in town. She lives in Canada most
of the time these days...so always great to spend time with her. xoxo

2011-11-10T22:09:00.001-05:00

Today I thought about timing and relationships.
As much as I think we may be attracted to someone or something,
the timing needs to work for the situation.
If the timings off, then generally--the relationship/situation will fail.

I have spent most of my life in my hometown.
I've attempted through the years to somehow escape this fate,
but the timing has never worked and thankfully, most days,
here I am.

I don't have regrets over any men I dated or even had bad relationships with,
but I do have a certain laizzez-faire sadness over a few--the few that
the timing just wasn't right. Maybe everything else in the situation was
pretty right, but the timing itself challenged the reality.

What's thought provoking to me though is the similiarities in varying situations.
It gives me hope and wonder in those ideas.
In the big picture.
That eventually the puzzle will fit.
And I will stop trying so hard.
To simply,
be.

Catching up

2011-11-09T21:25:00.001-05:00

Wow. Not that life's been that exciting, but I hardly know where to start since I've been on a slight time off with my blogging.

I suppose it's easiest to start with the present: I'm officially car shopping.
Some people might find that exciting and I'm really really trying, but honestly all it does
is make me cringe and feel heavy footed.

Since my dissolution, I have basically been without a vehicle. I have a Eurovan creating a lovely
rusty garden behind my garage, but it's been sitting for almost 2 years. I'd love to have it fixed,
but magical VW mechanics aren't anywhere to be found right now. I have faith in it--but I'm not
putting it out there as much as I should.

So- that leaves me with the now. My parents let me borrow their van a few years ago.
Yes, years. After my van died. For a long time, I'd borrow--and return. It got to the point my
mom just told me, if I need it --I'll let you know. Still, I didn't drive alot--but with the girls
busy schedule, I drive more than I ever have.

Then a few weeks ago I mentioned to my dad about some lights coming on and the transmission
acting odd. He took it in and SHABAM--the end of the van, but my lucky mom got herself a cute
new Jeep.

And then there's me.
At first I felt truly down.
I remembered my own van not being maintained even with asking and pleading.
I felt what can only be resentment, that I must 'conform' somehow to own a car.
Own.
A.
Car.

I never have.

So--I'm trying to be happy.
And not too picky.
For someone who's never owned a car you'd think I'd be easy-peasy, but no--I've got some standards in
my mind that may or may not serve me.

So much more--but it may have to wait till tomorrow.
OM xo

"What is Spiritual Practice?" POWERFUL and THOUGHT-PROVOKING

2011-11-09T12:22:00.000-05:00

2011-10-19T09:06:00.000-04:00

Funny enough with three beautiful daughters, boys have just lived in this nether world--offering a respit from relationships.
My oldest hasn't had a bf, but has had crushes here and there.
My youngest--much like my oldest, is less impressed by boys--at least for now.
My middle though--well, she--like myself--has always openly loved boys.
She takes a certain amount of it serious, not 'dating' someone because she didn't know them, but certainly seeing the beauty in their existance. She's a natural flirt--something I admire and have fear about...

So--when she came home last week from a dance put on by a local church--and hardly god-like, announcing she is dating Boy--I kinda cringed.
No, I did cringe.
Not because of him, because she seemed confident.
She knows this boy. He's been a kinda-friend for awhile. More boyfriend like than I expected. Then--it became official on facebook. And to take it one step further he asked her over to watch a movie friday night.
I told her I'd have to think about it.

I did. And the answer was--if they're still dating in a few weeks or month (which I'd have to say for 8th grade is almost impossible) and I meet him, then maybe she can if there are friends there.
I told her I didn't want a make out session.
She quickly informed me she hadn't even had her first kiss.
I told her first kisses turn into making out.
She didn't see the seriousness in it.
Ha.
Really?
I was kissing when I was in 8th grade.
Awkwardly I'm sure--but it did happen, though my mom probably didn't know.
And at a certain point, I won't know things. But right now, they share.
I'm glad they do.

Sigh.

And really--I love kissing--just like most of us do--and I want them to enjoy it too--but closer to the age of 20. Ha.
Not really...but kinda.
Om. xoxo

friday night peace

2011-10-15T07:37:00.002-04:00

Some may not think a Friday night at home alone sounds appealling, but last night I found it to be perfect.
I spent the day off work, home with my girls.
I was exhausted after running around trying to find the perfect purple paint for my two daughters who share a bedroom. One would like a color, the other, of course, would not. This has ended up more than once with us leaving stores without any paint at all. Finally yesterday--they agreed and paint was purchased.

My oldest daughter went to the movies with friends to see Footlosse and had a cross country picture taken in the middle of a corn field.
No joke.
They do these team posters of kids in various places around town to represent their sport. I guess cross country kids run anywhere--fields included.

So, by the time everyone went to their respected places last night--BD asked if I wanted to go the away football game. Sounded torterous, but for him, I would. Then my friend asked if I wanted to get coffee--sounded better, but let her know I was going to the game. After alittle pouting on her end, she finally gave up--but when I told BD she asked, he was like--why don't you go? You'll have fun with her.
True.
So--he left, but my friend didn't get back with me--so I was alone.

Sweetly alone with my yoga mat and streaming into Yogis Anonymous.
Ahhh...such peace.
Such pleasure.
Such hot, sweaty mind work.

I am almostly aways challenged when I do their yoga.
I love it.
I personally don't challenge myself enough on my mat.
I need someone to take me to the that next place in my practice and I often find it there.

So--by the time BD had gotten home, I had a lovely asana, taken a hot shower and got my Pj's on to begin a movie through hulu.

I slept so soundly.
So well...waking up to think about my middle daughter letting me know last night she's 'going out' with a new boy.
Ah--love.
At least for the day.
xoxo

Thankfulness in motion

2011-10-12T07:39:00.002-04:00

Thankfulness through motion.

So...my puppy is "getting fixed" today.
We got her from the pound a few months ago, being about 4 months now.
In a time where animal abuse and neglect seem to be in the news weekly, I half expected to have some kind of background check, house inspection to acquire this love.
Nope.
It was almost alittle too easy, but on the other end, I am glad there is some trust there in the big, bad world.
The only 'glitch' to the process (which is not a glitch at all, but i can't think of the right word) is that
until you get your animal neutered, the animal shelter still considers the animal their property.
Fair enough.
I neuter all my animals anyhow.
To make it even more appetising to those who may not think birth control in animals is important, they give you a $30 off coupon to take to various Dr's or shelters. My vet was already on there, so I felt even more lucky.

So, knowing today is rolling around I look for my coupon.
And look.
And look some more.
I put it somewhere "safe" so I wouldn't lose it.
Hah.
You would think as soon as that thought would pop in my mind, I'd stop whatever I was doing and say "NO! Don't do it!!" but did I?
Of course not.
So I spent a few days looking.
I even let it go, knowing my cheap ass would just eat the $30.

Then, for whatever reason, I looked in my "dog bag" this morning--and what was there??
You know.
The coupon.

So after doing the motion of 'father, son, holy spirit'--I thought, I'm not even catholic and I always do this motion. Its soothing.
Maybe liking saying 'namaste' at the end of yoga class.
Thankfulness in motion.

Occupy my dreams

2011-10-08T08:15:00.000-04:00

This morning I woke up from NYC.
So many times when there are large issues, disasters, very human problems "out there" in the universe, my dreams link into this larger whole and I'm
swept there for a moment. Sometimes this leads into other dreams, like this morning, other times--I am only 'there' and then back home again.

This morning I was very much in the streets with people,
watching them line up and link arms in front of a building --I think.
I look up to see a judge explaining something to them. There was a content, busy energy around them.

The next thing I know a police officer tells me that he is questioning
my age by the way I looked at the judge. I must've had a look of disgust in my eyes. I wondered how the judge could see me and how that was wrong.

Then--the dream switches.

Suddenly I realize my parents and girls are with me and we need to get out of this space. We are not safe, so I lead them into a building. Once we're in, I realize we're no safer--what I might picture true urban housing projects to be. I've been in spaces like this before in my dreams. I've lived that life somewhere. It sucks. As we're going down the stairs I tell my dad to make sure that my middle daughter isn't left behind...put her in the middle of the group. She's tired and doesn't want to walk anymore.

We get to the bottom stairwell. It's so dark and dirty with people in the halls. An african american woman asks me if I can tell "them" what "we" want...and I replied, "What? Just to be nice to each other..."

And woke up.

2011-10-07T08:04:00.000-04:00

Last night I was pretty broken. I can't quite figure out what's going on, other than pure exhaustion.
It's like I'm on this busy track that I can't find the detour off of yet.
I've realized, this may be how busy I am forever.
I don't even have time to drink a half a beer.
Serious. And probably kinda gross to beer lovers.
I usually split a beer between days.
I started one last Sunday..I think I took 2 sips and put it back in the fridge. And there it sits, until I pour it down the sink.
I realized this morning, I don't even have time to sit and enjoy a drink.
I'm not someone who likes to drink anything before bed...it keeps me mentally charged and I have to go to the bathroom about a jillion times.
No joy in that.

This morning, I feel rested.
I slept ok enough to get me through the day.
It'll be busy, going to two elementarys for booktalks.
There is pure yoga in that part of my job.

And then it's homecoming weekend.
My oldest is going with her friends--hopefully she has a good time.:)
Om xo

2011-10-05T09:13:00.000-04:00

I began slow

creaking morning body on the mat

listening to green tara

protector

remover of lions and greed

in balasana

arms overhead

fingers interlaced

onto my back for biking the agni path

rolling my spine

so divine

warming for the sunny salutes

head back

fingers interlaced
heart reaching towards the sun

Warrior 1: What is story? What is your stance on Issues 1, 2, 3?

Lunge into peacefulness

dropping your sacrum

bending your knee to twist

your heart to the other side of the world

to the twisty parvokonasana

unwind

bind and travel again

Child

your hero
called your camel to finish
your heart
resting your legs up the wall

to begin the day

2011-09-30T09:15:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago I received an email from a man asking about private yoga for him and his family.
He wanted for them to all take a yoga class together, begin this journey, on a weekly basis.
I mentioned the hardest part about this would be coordinating everyones schedule.

That ended up being semi-true.

Between my schedule and his family, the only way we could come to a middle place, was to create
a new class for him. Through some planning on my end, we were able to get space at one of the locations I teach.
I was very apprehensive about all of this...even this morning, after an AWESOME first class last night. He did attend with his wife, sons and girlfriend--plus more students who obviously find the words "beginner yoga" to be much more inviting, than simply "yoga." I do think it went well. It's a challenge for me because I haven't taught a true beginners class in a long time --so that is very good:)

But the apprehension...what is that? Where is it coming from? I sense it is fear based.
Fear of success?
Fear or change?
Since completing my YTT last year, I realized I would like to work less hours at the library and spend more time teaching...hence all of I've opened myself to. But as I'm getting closer to the reality of that, I find a bigger fear setting in.
Mostly--could I actually do it? I've been a single mom for a few years now and though I may complain about the hours
at work, I've been there for a long time...and would not leave...but to reduce my hours most likely means never to return to full time status there.
Ever.
No insurance.
Dental.
Nothing.

And then that leads me to thinking, do I simply work for the anticipation of getting sick?
I generally don't get sick, but I'm a realist and know it's a fact of life.
Sometimes an antibiotic is more than helpful.
But do I make myself miserable for that?

And what would keep me at full time status, if all things were possible?
To be home by 3 or 4 everyday for my girls.
For the sunshine.

And now...as I desire less and the universe seems to unfold--I find myself in fear.

I supposed it's a good thing I recognize what I am sensing..and just continue to let go,
unfold
grow.

Morning dreams

2011-09-28T13:42:00.000-04:00

it was a quick morning dream, i'm sure
as i layed in bed
next to the-end-of-my-affair-love

walking uphill
to wandering guitar-loving-folk-festival-folks
i noticed skyward

birds swooping
people watching
lady shoulderstandingme

as the overgrown owl
cascaded below to the crowd
opening his wings
with a strong hawk on the left side
and a rainbow colored parrot on the right

with power
we knelt
we prayed
to the earth
crying lovable tears

oneness

as we stood
and they swirled
to find another flight

Breaking up an afternoon fight

2011-09-22T20:14:00.002-04:00

I was downstairs, sitting quietly, reading the best teen book I've read for abit (Delirium) when a few of the after school kids came down to play on the computers and draw. Almost everyday there's a group of 5-10 kids who decided last year that this was going to be their hangout. Fine. After 19 years, I've seen kids come and go, some needing us more than others...this is one of those groups. The thing about this group--they're loud. Obnoxious. Language. It's been a test of wills. I usually have to be more of a mom, than a friend--which I find comfort in that I can do that readily.

Today one of the boys asked if another boy had been in...
Nope.
Boy 1 was glad boy 2 had not been in, he said boy 2 was being a jerk.
They're middle school, so they're always mad at each other--but the next day they may love each other.

Fast forward an hour later and I'm walking out a back entry way, able to see down the hall where the kids congregate around the computers.

Boy 2 is being tough to boy 1 on the computer.
Boy 1 doesn't want to fight.
I said to the woman next to me, "I don't think this is good. Boy 2 wants to fight."
As if it's slow motion, boy 2 pokes boy 1, trying to start a fight. Boy 1 tries to ignore him.

One of my co-workers was out there, but I didn't see her from my view.
Within seconds boy 2 lunges at boy 1, lifted him from his seat, trying to do a throw down.

I heard the woman next to me say, "Call the police."
I am a woman/mom on a mission.

By the time I got to the doorway, boy 2 has managed to start thumping boy 1, with all the friends trying to stop boy 2 and kinda cheering the FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT energy in the area.

I had a fleeting thought of, I could accidently get hit, but that didn't stop me from slamming open the door, with my most bellowing mom voice "GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW"...right into boy 2's eyes.

He respects me generally.
I don't think he knew I was there.
I wonder if I had been on desk if it would've even transpired?
He flew up the steps.
I checked in with boy 2.

He was fine--just shaken up. He's not a fighter--he told me he was there to defend the girl that boy 2 was supposedly going to start a fight with.
What?

Sigh.
The police show up and take the boys stories.

I am shaken up.
I am not surprised at their fighting, but fighting rocks me to the core.
Though I'm mostly zen, I am a fighter.
Maybe that's why.
Maybe I'm upset because during my mom-yelling, I have the fight in me...I feel it deep inside and it scares me.
I realized through this, I suppress this fire. Agni. I don't need to fight and I don't want to see people fight.
It usually makes me cry.
And these kids--the ones that have had a hard short life--are most likely going to have a hard longer life if someone doesn't care.
I know I can't save the world.
Or the kids of the world.
I just want to know their cared for...

Om.

2011-09-21T07:36:00.001-04:00

Listening to this link this morning about patience and vibration ...I have heard of 'Abraham Hicks' through other people, but haven't followed up on any reading or listening.

What I hear from this is the same message I find through Swami Satchinananda and other people, other beliefs --possibly through the Bhagavad gita and other mediums. I am reminded of being a vibrational being, law of attraction, improved situations, etc...I suppose I appreciate the message and do ultimately believe something similar. Maybe the same. I'm not sure.

Is it vibration? Expectation? Pre-destination? Muddy life? Just finding the simply joy and acceptance in what comes, but ultimately leading back to the beginning? Really..do I not have other things to contemplate this morning? Ha. Going to go practice alittle burlesque-y dancing before work this morning for a weekend of being a sexy zombie dancing to Michael Bubles, I Feel Good

Practice remembering

2011-09-19T14:54:00.000-04:00

Balance.
We hear it all the time, or at least I do--maybe it's me talking to myself...
Balance.
Right.
Left.
Namaste,
honoring the divine
joining together
right palm
left palm
meeting in the center

Breathing
right nostril
left nostril
ida
pingala
centering sushumna

Back to balance..
My practice this morning was limited because I woke up with a stiff neck, feeling
the tightness down the right side of my spine.
Sucks.
So slowly I trodded onto my mat, understanding that when I feel this tightness that
stretching is that fine line between helping and hurting--so I listened closely to what I could handle.
What I found was a playful balance between my right and left side...I didn't want to take it all that serious.
I have a semi-sick child home for goodness sake! So...I did what I could and knew I could take what I discovered to teaching tonight--at least on some level.

Then--through this homeness, I decided to make beads. I haven't had my glass out in probably almost 3 crazy years.
I was almost afraid I would forget some vital step between lighting my torch and rotating glass, but YIPPEEEE...it is truly like riding a bike, you don't forget.
It just takes practice at remembering.

Practice at remembering.
Remembering that life is not just this or that, neti-neti, but a balance between
inside
outside
upside down.

Practice at remembering.
Remembering at my kitchen table what it feels like to be home.
To remember how I liked being home.
Being married.
Being a wife.

Practice at remembering.
Balance.

2011-09-17T07:53:00.001-04:00

Saturday
Saturns Day

Yesterday was so peaceful...being off work and doing whatever I wanted. I met with a few friends at different points of the day, coffee--a walk and then in the evening a drink. Joy !! It was easy, simple--though I found I had to make myself clean--which is consisently true for me. It's kinda like being a kid that has to clean their room before they can go play--or at least that was the case for me, still holding true as an adult.

It's hard to believe almost everyday was like that a few years, I wonder why I didn't enjoy it more--because it's
honestly pretty great.
I'll be wonderful at being retired.
But, since I'm not retired yet, I'll have to go to work today...

Trusting inward

2011-09-16T15:31:00.001-04:00

It's been a seemingly long week.
I've been internally emotional or maybe outward too, as I tear up when a co-worker gives me a peace crane as a momento of my peace crane project at work right now. (got a minute? I'm trying to collect 1000 cranes by thanksgiving...anyhow....)

It started with a driving dream.
I was in the back seat of a pick up truck with two women up front.
I didn't know them and they were laughing at the hills we were driving through.
The one woman told me to take the wheel, being in the back I didn't think I could take control...which left us swooshing through the country roads.
I consciously in the dream thought, "Let go..."

My entire life when I am in the midst of analyzing or worrying, car dreams avail.
Their messages are simplicity defined.

So, I am sure I should let go of my mind right now. I'm in an overly analytical time..maybe it's the fall..shutting down the summer heat and beginning to go inward.

It is the most natural inclination. Turning inward with the seasons. Letting go of sunshine and outdoor play, to an inner-ness. For me, it is taking care of my home, my dreams, taking stock of where I am and paying attention to the hills ahead. To the swooshing road.
I waiver between trying to respect my emotions and knowing the cut off point too.
Because really--it's all good.

I just need to remind myself to trust.
Adhimukti.
Having confidence. Trust. Intuition.
Om.

Remembering 9/11

2011-09-11T18:30:00.003-04:00

Free. To. Be. without a breathalyzer.

2011-09-09T13:50:00.001-04:00

Maybe I've read too much dystopian young adult fiction, but the turn of all-things-education has me slightly freaked out.

Last night my oldest told me that the school is going to make all the kids take a breathalyzer before entering the Homecoming dance...
"What?"
She repeats.
"UHHHHHHHHH..." I'm speechless. I'm very aware that the kids are underage, so yes--they should not be drinking. It's generally not a problem, so I hear. I know that the school is "scaring" them. First, "Dirty dancing" permission slips...now this.
Still speechless.
"Well, if you want to go then I guess..." Speechless.
Do the kids not have rights?
Or really are they going to grow up feeling policed?
Guilty before proven innocent.
Words and thoughts just kept crossing my mind.
Drinking after the dance.
Kids will.
Still no words.

And today, as I read "Delirium" by Lauren Oliver for booktalks, I see that this dystopian future is so much of the present. Not like the days I grew up. Not that it was better..just different. More relaxed. Free. To. Be.

ahimsa

2011-09-08T14:17:00.000-04:00

Teaching yoga has been a wonderful journey I've started on, but finding the irony in personal expectations never ceases to surprise me.

I hadn't taught in a week, which anything else I don't do for a week, seems like a vacation...but not teaching. It's different. I feel more purposeful in my language, my words, in my poses when I return to students. It's less about having an agenda or some fancy schmancy flow planned, than reading my students and seeing what they're ready for next. And part of that reading brings me into doubting my intuition, which leaves feeling unprepared--even though if I'd really trust myself--I completely am for the moment. So..anyhow, as soon as we were done this morning, my 2 students (did I mention it's at 7:15 and that seems to be too early for most folks) were all gooshy on how great it was.

Really? I wanted to ask, but could tell they were very sincere. I hadn't come to class with an idea of what I wanted to convey, other than using the word 'ahimsa' at some point. Ahimsa is sanskrit for non-violence or non-harm. It always pops in my head when I'm in childs pose. Surrender. Compassion. Being nice to yourself. Not harming yourself or others.

A good beginning to the weekend..Om

Electricity

2011-09-05T16:02:00.003-04:00

I've spent the last 36 hours without electricity due to a 'microburst' storm as the fancy-pants weather people are calling it these days. I suppose the time of calling it a 'mini-tornado' is over...a 'microburst'...whatever you call it, disrupted life in this small town over the weekend. Some folks are still without power and thankfully mine, returned about 1pm.

I always spend the first 12 hours enjoying not having electricity (as this has happened on at least 2 other occasions for long periods of time in the past few years).
The silence in the house is always a surprise.
No refridgerator hum.
No computer noises.
Nothing.
It's like summer camping, but in my house, with dishes and laundry surrounding me.

After the first 12 hours I start to think about what's in my fridge.
Should I find somewhere to take it?
When will the power really come back?
Maybe I just need to clean out my fridge anyhow...

And then I fall into a peacefulness.
I don't mind not having power...that is until I see other people have power (because we're always one of the last streets to get reaquainted with this pleasure).
It's a strange feeling.
Almost envy, but not--it's a questioning, internally of why do the people by the park have electricity and we don't.
And then I get philosophical...like
what if I lived where water was scarce or electricity...how would I feel about my neighbors
who seem to be blessed with this non-necessity and I don't.
Would I become resentful?
Is that how wars begin?
Or at least fights?

And then I relax back into the moment.
I walk back into my house, light candles and enjoy the quiet.
Enjoy a true relationship with my daughters.
Enjoy watching the dogs play.
Enjoy quiet.

But--woohoo, did I tell you I'm thankful to have electricity back?
Light.

8:21

2011-09-03T08:21:00.004-04:00

My oldest has a cross country meet this morning, so she had to be at the school by 645...no sleeping in even on Saturdays for her during the fall. I'm proud that last night she even had us leave the football game early, 8:41, to be exact--so she could get good sleep. Of course as young kids I pushed getting enough sleep, so it's pleasant to see how she naturally knows this is what her body needs. I hope she remembers that when she's in college. Or even next week for that matter.

I suppose I should get ready for work. I can't imagine it's going to be busy being Labor Day weekend. Most people will be out--not in the library...but it's my Saturday to work. I'll be tired by lunch..I woke up at 5, feeling a cold coming on..did a gentle yoga practice to hopefully create some tapas, helping germs flow:)

Off I go...Om

Getting older

2011-08-28T15:18:00.001-04:00

The thing about getting older, at least this afternoon, is I am slowing less judgemental. I've never been too harsh on people, but activities/concepts/beliefs, I am not the most zen-ish.

I loosely maintain standards, but let things go that don't serve my day. Take this afternoon for instance..BD and I went to the 3rd grade Pee Wee football game. He wanted to watch his friends youngest son, so off we went to sit in the HOT sun. He goes back later to help coach the 6th grade Pee Wee--um, not me.

Anyhow, anytime I go to football games I am completely fascinated--almost to the point of being disgusted, at what this sport does and means to people. I don't get football at any level--more, I don't the mentality of the game, the coaches and the parents. It seems so loud and hurtful. Each time I go I am thankful my girls didn't want to cheer at this age (um, I have an 8th grade cheereleader this year. sigh.) and I don't have boys that play...yet, today I did enjoy going. Watching the boys run the ball, seeing how it does bring people together--and if they're not crazy-serious, having a good time. I laughed at the cheers that I swear haven't changed in 40 years--the ones I knew by heart in 1st grade (and I probably did when I cheered) and that's been quite some time ago. I felt less angry at placing these young girls in front of a crowd for show--and saw the entertainment to it. They were young girls having a good time, laughing and being happy--even if it seems silly.

So--I felt good--in the setting--in the place--in the hot football sun.
Om.

2 minute break

2011-08-26T13:44:00.000-04:00

Still waking up from my afternoon slump
worried my brain will stay in this low-gear
too long
worried the sunshine won't bring out my heart
worried I need to re-examine
too long
ago

That said, I am looking forward to getting off work at 5.
Walking into a housefull of teen girls, watching them get
primped for the football game...
Getting myself ready for an evening of dancing,
happy my girls can come to the hafla if they think football is boring.
Ha.
Football is boring, but their friends may not be.
Getting a good nights sleep.
That's my issue.
Sleep.
I don't think I'm getting enough and it's bringing on the
slow slump...Anyhow...
Enought stream of conciousness--back to real work.
Au revoir! Om

musical cleaning

2011-08-24T11:11:00.000-04:00

without silence
empty-house-morning
bleaking-blaring-old-song-onceupontearing
radiates
cleaning attempts

Positive thinking

2011-08-23T22:06:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is another new year.
At least for my girls.
And for me in some small way.

They start back to school, getting up between 5:30-6am, groggily eating
a bowl of cereal and doing their sunkissed hair.
6,8 and 10th grades.
Wow...
I've said that many times today and will probably
for a few weeks...it's a common question.
Working with the public, I am reminded how
I've grown up with people and older people feel
they know me, and my girls, simply by daily, weekly or monthly contact.
So, when they ask what grades they're going in and I state:
6th, 8th and 10th...it's like:
Where did the time go?
You see it in their expressions, often shared by "Oh I remember
you walking them in the stroller."

True.

Now, I'm lucky just to be walking with them...spending time with them.
I feel a huge amount of guilt not being home more, but they
seem well adjusted--though I probably won't know that for a few more years.
They do seem happy though.
Content.
Loved.

Hopefully--they have a good year...but then again,
it's middle school.
High school.
That's generally isn't the most simple, but I'm gonna stick with
positive thinking though>:))

zen in one

2011-08-18T21:54:00.000-04:00

This week has emotionally sucked.
There hasn't been any REAL reason..nothing is fundamentally different
with my schedule or my life, just the raw reality of responsibility.

I realized I miss the days of rose colored glasses and only paying the cable bill,
...having a bedtime reading partner
...smelly laundry
...adult home companionship
so how did I handle it?
I withdrew in my day to day life at the library.
I practiced asana and meditated more.
I tried to listen to happy yoga music and chant.
And then today,
I woke up alittle happier.
Lighter.
I had a wonderful bedtime asana practice last night.
Alot of standing poses...which are grounding and because they
deal with our base chakra--if we have family, work issues,
they can surface.
I don't know if anything necessarily surfaced, but I moved threw it and I went
to bed alittle lighter.

Today I still feel the blahness, but alittle more me...alittle more zen.
Om xoxo

Sophie Lucille

2011-08-05T07:53:00.000-04:00

Puppy power.
Woooooo...what a decision--I let my oldest daughter-15-get a puppy.

She's been begging since her birthday in May.
I've been a steady no-to-i'llthinkaboutit--to--we'll see...

It didn't help that BD was supporting her, but my decision ultimately--which I respect.

That said, she has been patiently presenting her case--even started emailing people
on craigslist when I said it was ok...until last week when I agreed to take her to the pound.

I knew I was a puppy owner before we left home...
And there she was waiting for her--a litter of 6 lab mixes (again, what was i thinking?)--but
the sweetest little puppy girl ever.
Like they all are--

Not so sweet when I can't get my morning asana in--but a reminder of what's
important and simple love.

Om.

Forgivenessnot

2011-07-25T22:46:00.000-04:00

Forgive
ness
not
knot
bound up around
heartstrings
severed too many years ago

i tried to speak to her
about my
o
w
n
idon'twannaownit
butishouldownit
o
w
n
teenage
dating abuse

as she sat
stepside
who's side are you on?
explaining her own
boy choking her sweet worded neck
pillow overtop
no
words can heal

forgiveness
ness
nes
ne

and as i left, sharing too little
i realized i haven't
forgiven
the teenage girl who spiraled inside that nasty tale

and really,
it's time.

Duality vs. Non in WV

2011-07-24T10:44:00.000-04:00

So we spent the last week in West Virginia.
To me, WV is one of those states that you see the beauty and the poverty.
Duality.
Non-duality.
Follow me.

Ok...before we left for WV I had been pondering duality and non-duality.
I clearly see both ideas, but feel non-duality in my innerself...that said, everywhere I turn duality shines it's head.
Black and white.
Good and bad.
Burnt toast and bread.

I though see the light in it all.
Illumination.

So--we're in WV having an awesome week of camping, whitewater rafting and horseback riding. The scenery is breath-taking...the connection of sky, water, trees..nature. As a shifted family, we all got along pretty well--moments arise like they do, but what I see as a dating mom--it's not unconditional love on both sides, but tolerant love--trying to be unconditional. Anywho....

I had about 30 seconds to myself and decided to take out one of many books I ended up not reading and turned to the section on duality vs. non-duality.
Of course.
The thought from Swami V. is that life is full of duality until you reach enlightenment (of some sort) when you can see that life is non-duality.
Duh.
Thanks for turning the obvious into something I could see.
I don't think of myself as enlightened, but when I read all these philosophies I see I may be at a different stage or maybe not--I don't know. I just know I am glad I read this idea to help me with this weekly thought.

Om.

Truth is...

2011-07-19T08:20:00.000-04:00

Truth is I love truth is.

If you don't know what "Truth is" is let me explain, from what I understand.

On Facebook my girls get these random posts on their walls beginning with 'Truth is...' and then their friend, who they may know well or not, ends the sentence.

Example: Truth is, last yr lunch was fun.
Truth is, your gorgeous but we should hang out more.
Truth is, you're the biggest creeper, but I love you anyway. hahaha.

They go on and on. It seems to be an eternal FB thing--that is so positive. So, in this age of fear and 'cyberbullying' that we hear about, I realized this is one of those rare positive games.

I know when I was in school I rarely shared with random people what I liked about them. This breaks that boundary and just lets the love flow.

Truth is, you're beautiful just the way you are!

Om

So...we don't have AC

2011-07-18T23:18:00.000-04:00

its hot.
sticky hot.
i have heard it the entire day from my girls.
hot.
hot.
they're pretty sure us not having air makes me a terrible parent, in so many words.

i know i am not a terrible parent, but i am wondering why i am such a hard-ass about using window units.

i own 3 of them. they live in my garage. they're cumbersome and loud and generally remind me of...of what? i don't know, but i seem to have an aversion to them.

i do enjoy being in air, but not constantly. i work in the coldest/hottest building EVER and everyone else in the world has air--so really, why do i need it?

do i feel somewhere this will make us "tougher?" more natural? i just don't know. i didn't have air until i was 10 or 11 and i do recall hating..no detesting, sleeping in general hotness. But now--I appreciate the heat and can get so achey from cold air. i am only 39-minus-a-few-days, so really--how achey can i be from it?

anyhow..the plus in not having AC: the evening, stirring winds that act like they're gonna bring in a storm, when in reality--they just give a sense of momentary peace. my youngest and i shared that moment tonight. even caught sight of a decent size toad jump out of our flower bed and hop down the sidewalk.

of course--falling asleep for everyone has been difficult...leaving me to sleep downstairs with my youngest for alittle reprieve from the upstairs heat.

so--night night.
bon soir.
om.

Rasta

2011-07-17T10:49:00.000-04:00

stepping street middle,
my eyes floated to the giant plane
slow-motion-crashing
through the car wash
savage loads of people
gathering
to the corner where I heard 'god' internalized

i turned around to
see sitting masses
one single man stood

dark hair
dark skin
army uniform with Japan on one shoulder
US on the other

I said we need to help the people
be happy
be safe
be
e
we began singing:
I am a rastafarian

over
over
over
over
with dancing fervour
bob's words leading
people pouring smiles down the street

and that's when i saw her behind me

dark hair
dark skin
shocked into the zombie walk
i wouldn't let her go
she needed to follow him
guided liaison

until we stopped in front of my house
to find a shack-bar
serving up shots of
"The United States of America"
sending the bikers into laughter.

2011-07-09T06:18:00.000-04:00

i fell asleep
obsessing about the
seering black-skinned spiderbite
behind my left knee

imagining
morning mangled skin
toxic fever

but instead
woke up at 530
recalling
the dream doctor listening
to my ovaries

right
left
with a stethascope
hearing heartbeats

And its the weekend...

2011-07-02T16:39:00.000-04:00

What a week.
Well, last week. I had booked myself way too much...I try to think of opportunities as abundance, but there is a breaking point. Monday evening, I had reached mine. I didn't crack, but I knew I needed the weekend. And finally--it's here.

I've had a peaceful day. I slept in--which is about 730 to me and had an amazing yoga practice. Who needs to go to "hot" yoga, when the humidity is super high and I live without AC? I'm not a fan of actual "hot" yoga anyhow...but, I put my yoga playlist on shuffle and delved deep into my mind, deep into body. I started yesterday thinking of my mat and space very deliberately, as if I should be exploring all the space around my body in each position, on my mat--being silent to what that may mean.

Anyhow, then I quick took a shower...my neighbor and I walked downtown to the farmers market. It was kinda thin looking. Maybe it was the lack of sun and being close to closing, but it wasn't thriving like I've seen. Then we walked to the coffeeshop to meet Tammie, then a jaunt over to a thrift store. I got the cutest black dress and flowing "porchy" kinda top. Came home, cleaned and off to the pool for two hours of sunshine and reading. Yay!! Felt so wonderful. I always miss having my girls with me when I go to the pool alone, but I'm ok with going alone too. I realized today, the pool may have been the first place I went alone as a kid, taking the chance I'd find someone to play with. I usually did. Nowadays, I try to hide--but still love being in the sun, listening to the music and enjoy people watching.

Tonight BD and I are suppose to go to a cookout. I'm looking forward to being with him, but I don't know how the cookout will be. The people are friendly, but we're not at the same place, so it's not what I love--but I appreciate their willingness to have fun and be honest.

Ahh..BD just texted me he's grabbing some DQ for us.
Off I go.
xoxoOM

And today

2011-06-24T10:43:00.000-04:00

So today is the teen workshop. I don't have anyone signed up. I don't think I've done my best on getting the word out to the teen girls I come into contact with, but this week has been chaos. It has been promoted online and inhouse, but the girls I know won't go to Dayton unless someone is taking them. I'll rethink this. I will try again though...

Tomorrow is work and bellydance.
I throw work in there, but I'm mostly thinking about dance.
Still, I'm not prepared for my solo--but am more prepared than before. I have been practicing, but it's kinda up in the air. Ha. Guess it'll all work out...

Much love.

Dancing in the streets

2011-06-15T11:19:00.000-04:00

I'm officially semi-getting-nervous...in less than 2 weeks I am:
Having a yoga workshop for teen girls at Sri. That I am not nervous about--Just getting everything together. At this point no one has signed up and though I'd be alittle disappointed, I've learned not to take it personal. One thing about yoga and exercise in general...people have the intention on going, but not always the follow through. Human nature. I've done that plenty myself. No biggie. Especially if you're a teen girl.

But what I'm mostly freaking out about...
http://youtu.be/YVeCQmPTpjE

On Saturday the 25th our town has something called Artisans Day. It's basically a bunch of street vendors selling their items down Main St., dealing more with antiques and some original art. Our bellydance troupe is performing. Fine. But my teacher wants us to do solo's..that'd be fine if I actually had mine choreographed...so now, I'm getting nervous. I just found this song. She'd like me to do floorwork and showcase flexibility. I know it'll all come together, but officially--AAHHH...my moment will pass.

been thinking asetya

2011-06-12T09:31:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about the word asetya this week. In the Yoga Sutra's it basically means non-stealing...kinda like "thou shall not steal" or covet, etc...

I've thought about this word in different ways, whether it's being on time or being honest with yourself and others.

But mostly--I've linked this word/concept to work this week.

When we are living from our being, we are not stealing another's life work.

So--working as a librarian, as a yoga teacher--I am, Sat Ham, being true and non-stealing-in

this moment-of who I am.

It's taken me MANY YEARS to get to this point, partially because the only "I am" I've truly taken on is being a mom.

I may feel different next week or who knows, by the end of the day--but I feel this concept concretely--so quite happily, I feel content. I accept. Om

California..here they come

2011-06-10T08:45:00.000-04:00

My girls leave this morning for California.
I am sososososo excited for their traveling, sad they'll be gone for 10 days, but overall happy for them. Of course I wish I was traveling too--but it's all good. They're going with their dad and visiting cousins.

And I'm nervous.
Nervous more for me.
I've never been away from them for that long.
I know I'll be fine.
Just a sad sigh of the future--but exciting to see them grow up and become these amazing women.

Happy travels.

Where in the world am I?

2011-06-07T21:47:00.000-04:00

Today I was standing at the front desk, helping the jillions of people coming in just for summer reading club (well...maybe not quite a jillion) when one of the sweetest families walks up.
The little daughter, who's about 4, looks up at me and asks where I was?
I was slightly confused.
Where was I? I've asked myself that many, many times--but she didn't know that:)
And then I realized...OH where was I?

As part of the summer club, one of our activities (which was not my idea) is "Where in the world is Beth?" There's a pic of me, then clues of where I may be. Kids can use encyclopedias, computer..etc and enter in a raffle. I'm traveling different places all summer long.

Anyhow...the mom steps in and explains.
She said as she was putting her daughter to sleep last night, going through their nightly prayers...she prayed that Miss Beth would be found. I was lost. Where in the world was I?

Talk about so much sweetness! And making me feel pretty special.

Viewing

2011-05-31T22:21:00.000-04:00

Tonight, BD & I went to a funeral viewing. Visitation. What's the correct word?
She was a year younger than me.
I was friends with her to a certain degree in high school, mostly because we ran around with the same people. She was a dear, dear girl--and this was--well life.

She woke up on a Saturday morning--massive stroke. Hadn't been sick. 38. Healthy. Beautiful blonde..lovely girls and a husband. She lived a few days--they even thought she was going to pull through, but the swelling didn't decrease, she started bleeding more and by Wed. night she had passed.

BD is friends with her brother. We both love their family.
And it seems about 500 other folks do too.
It was a long, long wait...but I'm glad we waited.

Her husband, who I had never met, was a kind heart. When I told him my name, he told me he needed Beths. His mom was also a Beth and no longer with us, plus he had met about 5 other Beth's this evening. It was his reminder. His parents were making it through, along with brother and sis-in-law.

And I left without anything.
Just knowing this is life.

So tonight, as I walked to my garage to get a gallon of milk, I thanked the grass for friending my toes. The night sky for shining. The sounds of the clunking train. The lights shining in my house and smells of summer humidity...for being alive.
Life.
Love.
Om

Buddha. Jesus. God.

2011-05-29T11:13:00.000-04:00

On Friday night my girls babysat friends kids, while the 4 of us went out for a drink. We had a good time, though BD & I played counselor to this struggling couple. Not struggling monetarily, but emotionally--marriage struggling. It's ironic, considering BD & I are not married, but both of us have had enough experience I suppose, we clearly see their situation. At one point the husband, half jokingly, asked if I could move in with them to be their personal counselor. She said he wants her parents to move in for that reason also. Hm.

Fast forward to getting back to their house. I pick up their daughter to tell her goodbye.
She's almost 4.
She looks at my necklace....a gold Buddha on one side, Chinese characters on the other. I've worn it everyday since December. My mom gave it to me as a gift for my teacher training. She holds it in her hand:
"Who's that?" She asks.
"It's Buddha." I reply.
"What's that?" She asks.
"What do you think it is?" I ask her.
She then reminds me of why we need to always stay open...
"God," She said with a distant smile. She then tells me that Jesus loves her. And loves Grandpa S. and he's in heaven with Jesus. I smiled and said 'yes' feeling most fortunate to have this experience with her.

Knowing this family, I can tell you that they wouldn't be able to explain one thing about Buddha. And here their 4 year old simply connected the dots to it all...
Om.

Yoga, Sivananda

2011-05-15T21:48:00.000-04:00

I've been home a week now from my yoga trip...
I hardly know where to begin.
To give you a short review, I learned about this yoga weekend a few months ago. It was offered by
an amazing woman, Lila Lolling, who spends most of her time in New York at Sivananda Yoga Ranch...aka, an ashram. An ashram could be compared to a monastary or convent--other than this was Hindu with lots of philosophy & yoga was involved...but that comparison makes it easier for some of my more Christian friends.

I carpooled with 3 other women, I initially hardly knew, driving 9.5 hours to get there. The weather was beautiful. The scenary was lovely--and we were exhausted by the time we arrived. More than exhausted...we were starving-hungry. We drove straight through, only stopping for gas. No bad restaurants. No bad food period. But no food left us so tired, so you can imagine how thankful we were when we got there and they had made a plate of dinner for us. Waiting. This was the first wonderful blessing.

We went to our rooms, up the hill, in what reminded me of a church camp type building. L & I shared a room. I took the top bunk. Our first night of sleep though sucked. Bad. We didn't realize we had a thermostat in the room, so in turn--it was COLD. And it's close to impossible to sleep when you're freezing. So-- when 4 am rolled around, L & I decided to get up and watch the morning puja. This happens every morning at 4:30. It was a beautiful ceremony honoring the dieties. Soon enough 6am came and thats when the rest of the community came for morning satsang. Beginning with a few OM's and then 20-30 minutes of silence, I wondered that first morning if I could make it. Not only was I exhausted from my lack of sleep and traveling but theres a NO CAFFEINE rule there. Ok. I am not someone who drinks coffee all day or pop, but I do enjoy a cup or 2 of my morning coffee. Ug. But, I did make it. Slowly.
Then, 2 hours of asana.
Brunch. OH my -- probably my most favorite thing-- someone making food, vegie/raw, for us everyday. I realized how much I miss being taken care of in that way.
Karma Yoga. Basically, selfless service like cleaning or we worked in their garden. Again, wonderful!!
Workshop.
Asana.
Dinner.
Satsang.
Bed.

Everyday for 4 days. This was my schedule. I added in a sauna break. I read. Wrote. I meditated. I truly relaxed and enjoyed. I spent time with people who were at the same place. I didn't realize how much my soul missed that.

And I was completely blissed out. Now, I've had that feeling of yoga bliss many times--but this, this was otherworldly. It was like being high, but not any kind of high you can imagine...it's like being so happy with goosebumps, but continually..It was life changing. It was surrender.
Om.

And woo-hoo__finally done: a pic of me

2011-04-24T19:28:00.002-04:00

Someone I miss

2011-04-20T21:40:00.000-04:00

I miss my Grandma.
Backporch talk.
Sitting in the yard.
All the moments that have turned me into this
adult self.
I miss her.

What makes me smile

2011-04-19T22:03:00.000-04:00

Granted, this is hardly original--but I do always smile when I see this.
Could be because I'm duct-tape fein. No joke.
I started 'duct taping' wallets, purses--5 plus years ago..and then realized this
could be a fun thing to do at work.
So, I did...and this program always brings kids in.
Doesn't matter what age or clique,
they all enjoy designing their own look.
Presently, we have a duct tape club of sorts.
They meet every few weeks just to hang out, share their new projects and I try to come
up with something different to offer inspiration too.
But, what I love most is that it's turned into this almost all boy group...and they
just play--but talk about their day. Life.
Kinda like dinner-table talk.
Without the dinner.
Om

What I am afraid of:

2011-04-17T21:07:00.000-04:00

Tornadoes.
Yes.
My biggest, darkest fear.
I've never seen a tornado.
Though when I was about 7 years old, I do recall
looking out my childhood, frontroom window, knowing a tornado was heading our way.
The sky went green. My mom was standing beside me.
I went into hysterics.
I don't remember anything after that.

Then my grandma--she loved to talk about the tornado she saw year, years ago.
She would describe the sky.
The sounds.
Family hiding under tables.
I would sit on the edge of my seat in absolute fear, listening intensely to her yearly spring risen stories.
My mom, I'm sure had to cringe, wondering first off about the absolute validity--but then knowing I wouldn't be able to fall asleep for days.

I eventually created a way to be able to fall asleep...because I am visual, I have always "seen" things as I drift off into never-never land...but being that visual a child does not want to see their biggest fear--say like a tornado. So-- I would fall asleep and have to picture this tornado off into the corner of this vision--super tiny, so that my other "story pictures" could take over and the little tornado would float away.

Ahh...

My fear is still very real, but I now have to be the mom and be semi-strong...but I do like to catch the occasion storm-chaser show--amazed at the fear-less-ness in those folks.

Last Night Poet

2011-04-16T10:44:00.000-04:00

Yesterday
not by chance
I found myself
entering
not the door
but an online yoga-poetry contest

And I recalled
not by chance
the little voice that
follows my fingers
writing
posting
relaying

Feeling
a pause
of Here I Am

Whether it blossoms
Or stays underground
I felt IT
love-i-ly

A picture of myself and family....

2011-04-15T12:32:00.000-04:00

What means alot to me

2011-03-27T16:26:00.000-04:00

My girls.
My beloved.
My family.
Joy.
Dancing.
Friends.
And my VW Eurovan sitting dead behind my garage.
I love it.
It's in dire need of a revamp.
It'll get going again soon.
Much love.

Wow--the longest 30 days ever!!

2011-03-26T17:34:00.000-04:00

What happened to my 30 days of pictures??
Well--first, my computer continues to malfunction and I find the less I use the other one, well--the less I am on--Period.
But today, I thought I'd catch up on some blogging and general surfing.

So--anyhow, on whatever number this is of 30 days, I am suppose to show a picture of my day.

And so--what I think of my day, less than an actual picture of it...

1****) Finding out my middle daughter made cheerleading, after week long practices. She also began track this past week full time, so I knew in the end she'd probably get sick. I was hoping it'd wait till the weekend--unfortunately it set in on Friday. The day of try-outs. But still--she did her best and made it. I found out this morning!!

1) Thankfully, I got to sleep in with my beloved BD after the seemingly longest week in forever. Though it was a good week in the actual work that I did, it was simply too busy. These days I try to view business as abundance, but sometimes it's just too much and in the end, sleep is needed. Yay for this morning.

2) Subbing Family Yoga this afternoon. I do it alittle different than the normal teacher, because I base my class more on stories. I've realized lately, what I love to share is based on words. Stories. Books...which is why I chose English in college as my major, I suppose. I love figuring out the meaning in words and what the author wants us to think about--so whether it's sharing books or yoga--it's all about doing what you love in the end.

3) Making spaghetti for BD and me--simply enjoying each other..love love love.

4) And now--this evening...it'll be good too. Maybe I'll sit and read. Maybe a cocktail. Maybe both. Love. Love. Love.

What I wish I could forget

2011-03-10T22:22:00.000-05:00

Not this moment...but

Goodness...my hair!!

Let me quick alittle background on the pic.

I'm probably 15 or 16...so that'd be like

1988ish...hence, the big hair.

Then my friend and I--she lived in a rather large house with plenty of room, so I'm unsure why we chose to sleep in the spare bedroom with the inflatable...unless we just wanted a double bed to sleep in.

And we weren't friends that would get dressed up and do make-up or hair, so again--not sure why we were actually doing hair.

Yes--notice the crimper off to the left.

I probably had a perm--just like Tammie and I did here:

Another moment, I would never want to forget, but the hair--I can easily laugh at and forget. And again, notice the permed hair, plus opening the hot rollers!!

But then again--thankfully I know I never wanna return to this style again.

Tammie would never let me anyhow.

Or my girls.

Om.

Let's Go Traveling...

2011-03-07T22:09:00.000-05:00

On day 20--lets go traveling...oh say to a beach because this gray, midwest weather is about to put me under. Though it's not the worse I've suffered from, it's been an eternally long winter. And I'm ready for the sun.
And the beach.
Tropical--perferable with fruity drinks and sexy cabana boys.

On the way home, lets stop in New York for a yoga retreat.
Yes--my spiritual crisis for the moment...
So I'm in a crux of a situation--one that I don't know is possible either way because
of work and my girls.
Again--traveling to New York for a long weekend in May.
I had completely planned on this --well minus the not knowing part.

Then I get a text yesterday from Tammie asking if I wanna go to Nashville to see the lovely Beth Hart perform at the end of April.
Well--of course I want a road trip with my BFF, listen to amazing music and have an unforgettable time!!
But--yoga.
Beth.
Yoga.
Beth.
Problem is the universe isn't really giving me a sign because the two words go hand-in-hand either way.

I wish I could do both.
But, I can't.
Tammie's going no matter what--so I don't feel guilty about not going--I just know the amount of fun we'd have.

But this weekend was already mentally planned for me--and I know this is the life direction I'm heading--so....

a picture and a letter...

2011-03-06T21:52:00.000-05:00

My grandma:

I found a Valentine letter she had written me years ago, just last week.

My girls brought home a shoebox from my parents basement, full of my girl-years:
Many key chains with my name
Rainbow key chains
A Dutch shoe key chain...(amazing how important key chains were when i didn't drive...now i scramble to find one at all)
Plus choir pins
Charm bracelets
And then a metal, flowery box.

I always get alittle excited wondering what sort of treasures
I hid away...and that's when I discovered the Valentines letter from Grandma.

Her handwriting was still very neat, so I could only assume it had to have been
before her macular degeneration had really set in. She wrote a sweet poem, possibly created by her--just for me:)

Finding this letter set a smile in my heart--and does just writing about.
My grandma, Jean, passed away a few years ago.
She was a genuinely beautiful soul.
I miss her more than I ever knew you could...but she's here.
And I love when I find her hidden in special spots.
Much Love.

how do you answer that question?

2011-03-05T15:58:00.001-05:00

she came to fax
not so fast
i asked
'how are you?'
noticing her new haircut and late-in-life divorce a year earlier

and she paused:

'well..i lost my sister a week ago today to breast cancer..
i don't know how to answer that question'

speaking of her cancer
mastsizing
once upon a time believing
her youngest
baby
sis
would make it
past her Stage

speaking of her mothers family
each daughter
losing a child
or two
to
too
to
dis-ease
disease...

'and how do you answer that question?'

Abbreviated sharing :
my baby-Elliot-miscarriage...
the coming-back-to-work questions
9 years ago
people meaning well to ask how you are
                           but when you wanna scream is this all there is?
                                and life can be over
                                     and my family has changed
                                        and my heart is broken
                                            how do you answer?
but honest
true
squeezing my hand with
broken eyes for her sister
she simply said 'thank you'

And I was glad I opened my heart to her.
Much love.

day 18: My biggest insecurity

2011-03-02T21:42:00.000-05:00

My biggest insecurity is my inability to be neat.
I am not necessarily messy, but not at all a neat freak.
I would rather spend my days reading, instead of putting laundry away.
Or making jewelry, yoga, bellydance, spending time with family, friends and of course first--my girls.
Even when they were young, cleaning was not on the top of my list. We built things, played in the dirt, made crafts and generally had fun.
I suppose I thought once they were all in school I would suddenly have my house in tip-top shape, but in reality I discovered more time to live.
But then--I'd feel this enormous guilt for not being more clean.
More neat.
And though I've accepted who I am, I find I still have insecurities about it.
I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side--but then again, you can't make mud pies that way.
Much Love.

What's made a huge impact on my life lately...

2011-02-28T21:38:00.000-05:00

The story of Ganesha. Maybe you know it...boy with the elephant head?
Well...last Thursday I took my girls to a Puja and it was by far one of the most amazing spiritual experience I've had with my girls, plus other folks...and the story of Ganesha was told. I knew it, but my girls did not.
Our yogi, Lila, who was telling it was very animated and brought them into the story...they understood the meaning.
What was amazing about that evening was how it ended up evolving into this Ganesha love-fest...how my girls wanna do our own Puja and how I will sing to remove these obstacles in my own life.
Much love.

Who inspires me on day 16...

2011-02-27T18:06:00.000-05:00

I am inspired by people who freely and openly live with every ounce of their being. So I can't say there's just one person who truly inspires me, but people who love from their heart.

So whether it's a yogi, bff, child or stranger...if you're living from your heart...what an inspiration.
Many blessings.

What I wanna do before I die picture...

2011-02-23T22:23:00.000-05:00

Machu Picchu.
I want to travel and take it all in.
Love.

Someone I couldn't live without

2011-02-21T21:57:00.000-05:00

Without sounding ridiculously selfish..who i couldn't live without
would be:
ME!
Seriously..It would horrible to live without my girls, my BD, my family,
my closest friends--but I would have to because it's life.
But I couldn't live without myself if I was living...also life.

Edward Hopper

2011-02-17T22:24:00.000-05:00

I THINK I discovered Edward Hopper my freshman year of college.

I can't say it wasn't before that, but i do recall writing a research paper on him in Art History that year.
I didn't like Art History...maybe it's because I consider myself an artist and have always had an issue with analyzing an artists work--when in reality there may not be any reason for whatever they chose..or a meaning we'll never know...

Anyhow--Ed.
I fell in love with the lighting of his paintings.
The meaningful simplicity.
The everyday people.
Plus we share a birthday.

Then at 20, I started working at the library and a patron donated a bunch of books..he was showing me everything and I commented on a lovely Edward Hopper book. He told me to have it. So--I did.
I don't look at it enough anymore.
It sits under my Buddha and chimes...but it's a part of this spiritual area in my room I adore.
Cheers to Ed.

What I love on day 12...

2011-02-16T22:27:00.000-05:00

I have always loved Ovaltine. I can not say the same for Quik or Hersheys. Just Ovaltine. Love.
When I was little I would drink chocolate milk so rich with the malty-flavored chocolate I would get an upset belly.
Not the best thought, but now 30 years later--a happy-ish type memory.
Then it seemed there were many years I didn't drink it--and I'm not sure why other than I was young and my parents did the grocery shopping.

Along came my oldest and by the late 90's, I was back to drinking Ovaltine all over again.
This time, not only did I love the flavor, but understood why my parents probably bought it in the first place...vitamins and minerals. Yes, it does contain a number of them--unlike other chocolate milk products.
Plus--I felt like my girls were getting a treat.

And so--we still drink it.
Quite abit actually.
Yummy love in a glass.

It's really been more than 11 days...but what I hate:

2011-02-14T21:35:00.000-05:00

War.
I hate it.
I don't know anyone who likes it, but some who are more tolerant of it...
I respect soldiers.
I feel for them.
Some people believe we'll always have war--
that breaks my heart.
I read once in a passage about reincarnation that at some point in
our lives that we've been a soldier or fought in a war.
I can believe that.
I believe that's why some people are so against it, while others
remain in the cycle.
I may seem niave about my peace/love/war/hippiness...but really--i am not.
I just believe no one wins.
It's not glorius.
But we fight onward and upward...

Day 10--Who I do the most crazy things with...

2011-02-10T21:46:00.000-05:00

I don't really do anything crazy.
Honest.
I do things others may not do...like dance alone or with Jackie B...or bellydance with my friends.
I enjoy having a cocktail--but does that bring out the crazy with one certain person?
No.
Though I understand there are certain friends you may do one thing with, but not another...but even when I think back, there's never been one person I acted all up with...I probably had a group of them:) Though the people in my life--Tammie and Kim--have made me laugh the absolute most, which can lead to some goofiness...
Over all though...call me boring.
Or honest.
Or a party-pooper.
I'm open and up for alot, with the folks I love and trust--but not with just one person--just for the sake of it.

Who's gotten me through the most...

2011-02-09T22:02:00.000-05:00

The one and only Tammie.
Friends since 6th grade.
The thing about best friends--true best friends--is that you don't have to worry.
I have never worried about us, well that's not true...once, shortly, my Sr. year because of some bad BF choices. All my friends were shunning me. I worried.
But not long--because do you know who was there for me when I getting out of that mess?
The one and only Tammie.
Who was there watching me have my first baby girl?
You know it...Tammie.
And who has seen me be my very best person and possibly, least best person at times...Tammie.
Tammie, like best friends should be, are like parents...offering unconditional, honest, belly-laughing love who will hold your hair when your sick and a cup of coffee in the morning.
xoxox

Grace and the Mexican restaurant

2011-02-07T22:21:00.000-05:00

I forgot.
Well, almost.
Last Friday was S.B's retirement party and I had told her I was going.
And I did.
But almost didn't.

Thank the holy heavens that C. called and asked if I was still going.
Really--how does that happen? I remembered I had something to do, but couldn't quite pin it down.
Duh.
So--Yay--C. called and I went for Mexican with all my working friends plus some spouses on the side.

And being S.B's party she was slightly drunk on whiskey--while the rest of us were downing marquita's. We all know she likes to drink (like most of us), which is why we're having the party at a Mexican place, rather than the library-- but I have to say she brought me to tears.
Ok.
Not hard to do.
But if you knew S.B, you wouldn't think she'd be able to do that...because
she is a woman who believes in rules. And policy. There are no favorites with staff. Or patrons. She did her job and left on time, while we all worked without getting paid. That said, some co-workers found her more difficult.
I always respected her.
Immensely.
Anyone who can be plain honest--I respect.

So--when she came up and gave me a big hug and called me sweetie--well, first I knew the whiskey had set in..but then she continued...
She told me--while getting tears in her own eyes (again--not so much like her)..that I had been through a lot these past few years and she had never seen
someone handle it with so much grace.
And how fortunate my girls were to have this grace in their life.

She was being raw.
Honest.
Alittle drunk.
But --heartfelt and vulnerable.

Something I wish she showed more of to people--but what this made me realize is that we affect people in ways we can never know.
(Just like Tammie and her making her people laugh)
And thankfully--I got to know how I affected her.

This is one of my newer self-discoveries...understanding what I bring to others that I usually dismiss...

So--thank you S.B. for telling me about my grace.
It gives new meaning to the word.
As a kid--oh and adult, I'm rather clumsy and get called grace in a teasing way--now I even look at that different...I'll be graceful however I am.
xoxo.

Laughing on Day 8

2011-02-07T22:03:00.000-05:00

we sat
inside
outside the 100degree
h
e
a
t wave
floating through my non-a-c'ed house
to yours

never remembering what show we may be watching
because all i mean to do is
sit
to be
with you

and we laughed
photo-oping silliness
in the summer afternoon

Day 7--My most treasured item isn't an item...

2011-02-05T16:27:00.000-05:00

But my three most treasured loves in this universe...
their laughing joy in the picture will always make me smile...

Who I'd love to change places with for the day

2011-02-03T21:05:00.001-05:00

The Dalai Lama

I don't know how I feel about any one person having immense influence over people, but the DL seems to pretty much rock it.
His loving guidance towards people, the world and life offer truths that can be found in all religions.
I love that he understands and shares that all people want to be happy...and it's our place to discover what makes us happy physically and emotionally--while also letting go of what makes us suffer.

I imagine he has a loving presence, attracting those who also love...which I could completely handle for the day--PLUS more.
Om.

Day 5--A Pic of my Fave Memory

2011-02-02T12:09:00.000-05:00

I don't have just one picture of my favorite memory but more than half a lifetime...but I think this pic about sums it up with my BFF--Tammie and I...
This was at her Wrap Party for http://www.projectbelieve.net/ Check it out.

My day, plus day 4 of my night...

2011-01-31T22:06:00.000-05:00

Today I was quiet.
If you know me, you might think that's normal...if you're my BFF's well....you still might think that's normal, but you'd know the difference between what's quiet and what's super quiet. I was alittle bit of both today.
Maybe contemplative is the word.
My (former) brother-in-law passed away after Thanksgiving and it's been tough on me.
I know it's been tough on everyone.

I realized his death has been my first adult death without warning...not like my grandma or someone else old--but an unexpected death. Even though he's my former husbands brother, we stayed close. He was my family for many years and we really loved each other. The last time I saw him was last summer. He was visiting from Arizona for a week. I hadn't seen him for a few years, because of the distance. And now --I feel so thankful that when he left I gave him a big hug and kiss and told him I loved him. That is my last physical memory of him.
He called once and we had a great conversation.
Thankful again.
And grief--it sneaks up on you.
Like today.
I found an online article someone posted with an obituary attached to it.
Woh...it was very kind. I felt very proud to have had him in my physical life.
But--it got to me.
I had to go in.
I've already been emotional anyhow, so this just let me be in the very most present state.
Aware.
Kind.
Loving.

So--really my day was my night...a picture of Brian.
Om.

Day 3- Picture of the cast from fave show

2011-01-30T21:07:00.000-05:00

Honestly, I hardly watch TV anymore.
Seinfeld was my favorite show for so many years that my first two daughters births and Seinfeld share memories.
With my oldest I had Seinfeld on in the delivery room...too bad I don't recall the episode.
And with my middle daughter, I wouldn't go to the hospital until Seinfeld was over.
It was a new Thursday night episode...how could I give that up?

It's ironic though, Seinfeld is the show that I had to "let go" of to really become part of the parent I am today. Though I was never an avid tv watcher, I did watch certain shows.
Friends. Seinfeld. All those Thursday night shows. The problem with enjoying shows is you WANT to watch the next one.
Duh.
But kids don't necessarily care.
Nor should they.
And I clearly recall getting frustrated because I wanted to watch Seinfeld, but one of
the girls--who were babies--woke up or I had to nurse, oh you know--parent, and I felt so frustrated. I wanted to sit. Relax. Watch TV. And thats when it hit me...I was way too attached to Seinfeld. To TV in general.
So...I had to let go to become a better parent.
The Buddhist in me detached.

Thank the holy heavens.

Now, I watch tv with my girls on occasion and there are certain shows I enjoy if I just happen to catch them, but honestly I never know when anything's on.
I just watched American Idol for the first time this month.

And hey, I still love Seinfeld--love to laugh, but even more I love that the show helped me grow.

Day 2: Picture of who I've known the longest

2011-01-28T11:48:00.000-05:00

Circa: 1988...though this barely the earliest picture, it's one I have handy online.
K and I became friends when she was 4 and I was five.
Her family moved across the street from mine.
At 10, both our families moved...in town, so we could still walk to each others homes.
Our meeting corner was at "The Tacky People's" house...you know the one, full
of gawdy yard decor...
We grew up.
Moved.
But 34 years later, we are still BFF's--even if we don't live across the street from each other anymore.
Love.

Day 1- picture of yourself with 10 facts

2011-01-27T22:02:00.000-05:00

I generally don't want to commit to these 30 days of anythings, but I'll give it a try...maybe it'll help me focus...

1. I drink coffee everyday. I'm ok with this one addiction.
2. I do yoga everyday. Is that an addiction?
3. I love dancing...I don't claim to be great, but it's in my heart to move.
4. My girls are my world.
5. I always knew I wanted kids and wanted them before 30.
6. I am a published writer...this came about by coincidence, but none-the-less...
7. Housecleaning is not my first priority. Living life well is, but if I was more tidy I'd like that too.
8. I wish I didn't need curtains. That would mean living in the country--and I don't.
9. I've never bought a car.
10. I don't like socks. Barefoot is the way to go.

Out of the mouth

2011-01-26T14:49:00.000-05:00

The other night I'm sitting on the couch watching teen shows with my youngest (11), while my oldest (14) was on the floor playing Sims.
My middle daughter (13) was at a basketball game.

My youngest turned to me, "that smells really bad..." about my drink in hand. I told her it was a drink with something like wine in it. In reality it was Kahlua and milk.
She then said, "whenever I smell that I always think of you."
I burst out laughing, "Really?"
Well she kinda back petals, but I told her that was alright.
I'm hardly a lush, so I'm ok with whatever her response may be.

Then my oldest pops up her opinion..."you know you shouldn't drink at all. It's bad for you."
One word: moderation.
Her one word: No.
Black and white is her world and now that she's in health class she seems to be an expert on everything good.

Fast forward a few hours...I'm walking in the back door with my middle daughter. She explained how excited she was because in
her health class they were going to see how it was to be drunk tomorrow. They were wearing some sort of glasses or goggles that would give them that 'drunk feeling' and then they had to walk the line.

What??

Ok, I get the point--but in her case the lesson may have an opposite affect because she was/is way too excited in my opinion for this upcoming experience.

All on a weeknight...

Who's watching you?

2011-01-23T21:59:00.000-05:00

One of my responsibilities at work last year was getting the teen board off and running since we were finally able to hire a young adult assistant to help me. Once upon I had been the ya assistant, but somehow I've fallen into something more--so anyhow, we now have a growing teen board.

They met for their monthly meeting the other day and I did a short drop in to see how it was going with the ya ass't.
Fine.
Other than when I first sat down I felt like they thought they'd be caught doing something wrong, only because they were talking music. I'm all about getting to know the teens, plus their interests--so anyhow, after I was filled in on what they felt they should tell me--we started talking about school (which came from getting more kids involved) and cheating.

Then came security camera's at the highschool.
In school hallways.
In class rooms.
One girl was convinced every camera worked, while the other said half were fakes just to scare them.

That's when it really hit me--these kids will have no idea how it feels not be in 'that' environment.
I couldn't have imagined camera's in school.
Let alone our little smalltown, semi-affluent school with not much crime, other than drinking and pot smoking teens.

We've somehow sold them and the teachers that this makes school more secure.
(Retailers sell baby-camera's (baby monitors), creating fear in parents..instilling the idea that these camera's will help the parents sleep better at night--here's my idea: a familybed. Best security possible.) Anyhow....
I am much more critical...I think camera's and all that entails only makes people more tricky and creative in their actions, if they're going to do something 'wrong.'

And then I wondered, what would I do if camera's suddenly showed up at work.
They're in street lights and cop cars...office buildings...and schools.

So--my apologies to these kids...for never getting to know true freedom--
but knowing it's all inside us and teaching kids/people to keep thinking for themselves.

Effortlessly Wonderful

2011-01-09T21:34:00.000-05:00

This entire day was so effortlessly wonderful...

I've been looking forward to today for weeks--why you ask?
Bellydance practice!

When I chose to do my yoga teacher training this past fall, I had two concerns:

BD and bellydance.

(I wasn't concerned over my actual life/work schedule because the universe of course let my work and girls schedule flow, again effortlessly.)

But bellydance...I was worried about taking time off.

Not that I would suddenly forget how to dance, because that's impossible...again, the riding-your-bike analogy...but I was worried about what this meant for our troupe and disappointing my friends.

Though I missed a couple performances and initially had a twinge of anxiety, in the end I had to let go...knowing it's impossible to do it all and I knew what getting my YTT meant to me...so I did. And funny how life works out, because it seemed a few of us in the troupe had life events that needed to be tended to...so they all took alittle break.

Until this morning.

And AWWWWW...how wonderful it felt to open my Being again..

I felt so alive.

My heart.

My hips.

My arms.

The music just jazzes my soul.

And I felt the internal empowerment it brings me--making my smile alittle warmer.

Then later in the afternoon we had a yoga teacher meeting...and when I hugged this other teacher she told me how hot I felt. Alive.

Fast forward, we're all doing introductions to one another...

Me: mom of 3, librarian, just finished YTT...the end.

Yoga teacher next to me: And bellydancer....

I just about jumped with joy..Yes I said and explained my morning.

The hugging teacher said, "no wonder you felt so warm..."

And I felt alittle part of me return.

Thinking how fortunate I am...with bellydance and now yoga...and always my friends, family and library...I am surrounded by people who love me. Wanting to see me grow, allowing change to bring about a better version.

Kinda like a relationship...patience.

Growth.

Joy.

Love.

Shimmy on:)

I'm slow--Bop It

2011-01-08T15:43:00.000-05:00

I sat on the floor laughing, almost pathetically last night...at the fact of how slow
my brain registers information. We got two Bop-It's for Christmas. I picked one up that day, but not again till last night.

My middle daughter was bragging about her high score.
My youngest told me hers.
BD started playing too.

So, I thought--what the heck--it can't be that hard.

Wow--what do I know??
I never got past 14...which means I got 14 correct in a row.
And you only three options:
Bop-It
Twist
Pull

For the first few tries I got 5 & 7...
I closed my eyes, trying to focus in--blocking out the TV, chatter and my eternal
ear-ringing.
But O-M-G..I sucked.
To the point my girls thought I was doing it half on purpose.

And then I realized how slow I truly am.
I am rarely reactionary.
I think.
Ponder.
Analyze.

It can take me days to realize someone's intentions or smart-ass remarks.
Unless I am on my game that day and all the stars are aligned...or if I'm dancing the night away.

So-I'm with my BFF plus one last night...we're drinking some Baileys and coffee,
laughing about life--when I said, "Wow I realized how slow I am today..."
That sent them into hysterics, because evidently they just said the same thing about me
the day before...My BFF explained how and why this came up, while my other BF
said I am a Muse.
She has called me this many times before.
I am ok with that.
She plainly sees I am not at the same level they are...and anyone who loves me,
hopefully knows that about me...sometimes this idea makes me sad.

Other times, like last night, it just makes me laugh.
Or when I play Bop-It.

Back to the Grindstone

2011-01-06T21:31:00.000-05:00

After 2 weeks (minus 3 days) of being off my librarian-job, I headed back to work
this week ...the girls were back in school.
I wasn't prepared for it to be such a downer. Going back to work and all...
I knew the girls would be all Oh schools so boring, I'm tired, etc...
But--they really weren't all that.
Myself on the otherhand, had a difficult time getting back into the swing of things.

At first I thought it was just the routine I was having a hard time with, but
really--I'm someone who loves routine...then I realized walking home..its just about the fact of not being home more.
Period.

I am resolved in the fact I have to work.
I have since I was 16.
I am a single mom who at this point is not independantly wealthy and considering
I don't play the lottery, I don't see myself in non-working status anytime soon.
Even during my marriage, I worked part-time...partly because it worked perfect with
our schedules, partly because it was encouraged by both family and the wonderful
women I work with. I enjoy work...well I should say, I enjoy work I love to do.
I love being a librarian.
I also love being a yoga teacher.
A new yoga teacher at that.
But, mostly love being a mom and I see the time slipping. My oldest will be 15 this
spring and holy-cow that's crazy.
I've been so fortunate in my life and I have wonderful girls who amaze me...and so
being home with them this past two weeks was such an awesome gift.

On the other hand, I also realize I am someone who has a hard time not working.
I would be doing something.
I would be a full-time yoga teacher.
Maybe I still will be.
And then be home more.

I shouldn't whine..it'll all balance out.

To all the Santa's

2010-12-24T07:50:00.000-05:00

Reading a post over at Ramblings of an Emotional Idiot by Jess about whether to tell kids if Santa is real or not, brought about my own Santa related memories.

I don't ever remember believing in Santa.
I think I had it figured out between 4 and 5 years old.
I half recall seeing my parents put gifts under the tree in a multicolored-lit room and whether that memory is true or not--I know that is my earliest memory of Christmas and my own Santa-parents.
And if I wasn't 100% positive of Santa's aliveness or not, when new neighbors moved at 5 years old and the oldest brother took me down the street, behind a bush and questioned me:

Do you believe in Santa?
Ummmm....
Do you know who Santa is? Real Santa?
Well.... my Mom and Dad? (Really I was going out on a limb here but he kinda led me there because in reality...who else could've have it been?)

And then he continued to tell me his little 4 year old sister, who became my BFF, didn't know and I better not tell her. Or else? Or else I would have had to deal with him and he was protecting his little sister.

End of any Santa disbelief or belief.

Fast forward 20 plus years to my own daughters.
My oldest started asking whether Santa was real when she was about 4 years old.
My answer was "Well what do you think?" which generally led to some sweet conversation.
Then one snow-filled-almost-Christmas-time evening, we were going through our
"What do you think?" When she told me (more or less):
I think that Santa dresses up in normal clothes so that when he goes shopping no one
recognizes him..like he's just a regular person, but then he goes back and becomes Santa.

I knew we were honing in on the end.
Within days she started linking the tooth fairy and the easter bunny and anything else fantastical together.
She got it.
And honestly I was thankful.
I could now live up the role of Santa without feeling like I was lying to her.
Her sisters may not have ever truly believed because when the oldest sister knows..why not share the love? ... but I was less concerned over the long-term effects of knowing or not knowing, because it was all ok.

Sadly funny and alittle ironic to the 5 year old left in me...during this time was the height of play-dates and acquintence moms. Santa was the kind of topic that these moms liked to talk about...what an easy way to judge a parent, whether their child knew about Santa or not...when I had a mom tell me, because I non-guiltily admitted my girls all-knowing-ability, that my girls better not tell her kids. Just like I better not tell my BFF so many years ago.

Protection.
So much less cute though coming from a bully mom, rather than a big brother.

Merry Christmas to all the Santa's xoxxo

Don't be mean to Grannie

2010-12-19T22:39:00.000-05:00

I remembered very clearly why I may always hate Christmas shopping last night.
Was it the bumper-to-bumper carts sliding in front of me, trying to find the best deal?
Was it the woman talking extremely loud on her cell?
Was it the man wandering the aisles, avoiding his shopping talking on his cell?
Was it the rugs strung out in the middle of a narrow aisle,
not allowing me to take a short cut to get away from all the people???

No.

All those reasons, though excrutiating, were the reason why I left
that store to opt for easy Christmas shopping...
stocking shopping at the next-door-dollar-store.

And which is exactly where I thought I might have to yell at someone if they didn't
stop yelling at their
GRANDMA.

Excuse me.
Yelling at your grandmother is hardly allowed. In my case, it would have
NEVER even be thought of and I can't imagine the consciousness of it...
That said, I'm sure there's some grandma out there that is just as mean and rotten as
this guy was...but clearly--this grandma was not one of them.

I'm in the craft aisle, attempting to find some marker or paper product my girls don't own, when
I hear "F**k" come from the next aisle.
Not thinking much of it, because it is Christmas and my best friends have sailor mouths, I go back to my happy-go-lucky-world when I heard the sister (I can only assume) tell him to keep his voice down because they're in public.
Of course, what the F**k does he care...he'll raise his voice if he wants to.
In pops Grandma's voice..and something about the time.
He insists he was home.
The sister half-hardily tries to stick up for him (because obviously he was lying)...
when he starts yelling at his grandma that she's a F**king liar..
over
and
over
again...

Until I thought if he didn't stop, I was turning the corner and giving him a good
talking to...or getting the store manager or the biggest man I could find.

But he did stop.
And I heard her say, "If you don't like the rules, then move out."
Amen.

The end.
I did turn the corner soon after..and she was the sweetest looking OLD grandma.
I didn't know--maybe she was a young 55 year old grandma raising her grandkids...
but NO...
an old one.

And then, as I continue looking for useless stocking stuffers--I SEE people.
Not through my usual rose colored Christmas glasses,
but clear lens all-the-way...not the visual I care to live.

I thought--this is why I hate Christmas shopping--
because you see the shadows of people I try to avoid.
No TV news.
No drama.
Actually hardly an TV at all.
But when you're face to face...or aisle to aisle with guys who are mean to their grannies,
well then...Christmas shopping isn't that much fun at all.
Who knows...maybe he didn't get enough hugs as a kid.
So for him...I hope he gets lots of hugs for christmas--no shopping required.

Merry Tired

2010-12-17T13:21:00.000-05:00

I'm tired.

I know this is the time of the year I'm supposed to be full of cheer--but

I'm having a hard time locating the internal energy to actually bring about cheer.

I'm happy.

And honestly, I'm cheerful--but mostly ready to hibernate.

And see some sunshine.

But--seeing how it's just beginning to actual BE winter, I'm less than optimistic

that I'll be seeing alot of sunshine. In reality, I really don't mind winter. I love watching the peaceful snowflakes..the quiet walks..bundling up...but right now this

tiredness is killing it in me.

And being over-analytical-me, I wonder why am I feeling this way?

Granted I've had a cold for two weeks and my ears have decided to give me a new

pitch to listen to..but is it I'm still sick or just need rest.

Rest.

I'm sure.

Which the idea of that makes me tired, because I haven't even started Christmas shopping and hmmm...could it be just days away? And I have 3 girls to buy for. And family. And BD.

That makes me tired just thinking getting myself geared up enough to go.

And no--I'm not depressed if anyone is wondering. I've been down before--this is not it or the pre-mode to it...

Then there's work.

And yoga.

All things I love.

I've created a new goal with the two--but envision some tiredness to be able to get to my goal. Not exhaustion. Just growth.

So--grow.

And then be less tired.

And then the sun will shine.

And then it will be spring.

Merry Friday.

Making Her Wait

2010-12-10T13:15:00.000-05:00

My middle daughter turned 13 last week.
She is an amazing young woman...who like all kids/people--want things...oh say--like a Facebook page.
She began asking for a Facebook around 12.
My rule was she needed to be 13.
I am not here to pass judgement on those who let their 8 year olds get FB pages, because I don't do that--plus I know people judge me just because I let my child get a page at all.

Anyhow--My rule was 13.
First-- that's the rule because I think that's Facebooks rule and I try to stick to those kind of ideas in life...plus I didn't let my oldest have a page till she was 13. So--needless to say, because I wouldn't let her have a page, we spent most of year 12 WANTING it so so bad. Two weeks before her birthday she almost had me beat down, trying to convince me she was
ALMOST 13
HOW MANY DAYS AWAY
OH MOMMMMM....
And then she even gave me, well I could make a page and you wouldn't know.

Needless to say that comment didn't go over well.
Even my oldest told her I would know--
And I reassured her I always know these things and she would get in lottsa lottsa trouble (though didn't quite know what the punishment would be)...and she knew.
So--she stopped asking.

And then it was her birthday.
Two days later, I let her know she could make a page.
Oh yeh..I know--not right now...

And I knew I TRULY had done the right thing by sticking to my words.
Of course--I knew it as a parent, but KNEW it...

Then yesterday, 6 days after her birthday, she told me she wanted to make her page.
So--we did.
And we went through, friending who she wanted to (my rule also is she has to friend her parents + close family friends who have our best interest at heart) -- letting her finally talk to her friends online and create what she needs to--to be 13.
Love.

2010-12-07T20:58:00.000-05:00

I haven't been writing too much lately.
Or reading too much either...no, that's not true. I have been reading plenty
of tween, young adult and yoga books--but blogs and adult literature are
scarce these days.
And I find myself missing both.
They'll fall back into place--somewhere...blogs before literature--only because reading
blogs is more simple--but I worry about my attention span and vocabulary --or lack
of if I don't keep up...

Anyhow--here I am now.
In bed sick.
After an amazing weekend of becoming an official yoga teacher (according to whoever
thinks you need to be certified) and understanding what this means to be...
After discovering my brother-in-law -former- passed away this past week...leaving everyone too too early...
After a sick day--for me, but spending part of the day getting rid of a nasty
computer virus...

But doing well overall...and hoping for good sleep...so I can get back to reading
more teen books tomorrow.

project Believe

2010-11-29T09:25:00.001-05:00

I will be the first to admit, I am a crier. I cry for the happy. I cry for the sad. I cry because I feel one with life and when that life is nothing I've prepared for--I really cry.

I say all of this because reading Claire Montogomery's post at Car Dancing, I am reminded of my first visit to that hospital with her. Even if you don't finish reading my blog--read hers. Believe. It is true.

We walked into Mary's room and I immediately could see the difference in Mary. I felt the difference all around. But then again, maybe it was the hospital smells. The kids outside her room. The staff. The actual fact that Mary had been hospitalized behind locked doors. All these little moments, that I brought into the room with me--watching Claire with her daughter...simply brought me to tears. Not unheard of--even when Mary was discharged--tears again.

But tears for a different reason...not that she was being discharged--which of course is a reason to cry, but because I saw in the time Mary was hospitalized she was the exception to every rule--whether that was Claire's parenting...... practically losing her very white-collar, corporate America job because of needing to take care and ACTUALLY VISIT her mentally ill daughter an hour away (because the mentally ill/challenged truly do not have centrally located facilities), a few times a week...

or

Claire fighting for Mary's rights when other parents either have given up the fight or simply do not have the tools to bring to the table. I will never forget the time I sat beside my friend with a room full of hospitalites, listening to Claire speak. I had a moment of this is why she does her corporate job--so she can be THIS to these people...not just THIS mom who is fighting for her daughters human rights, but THIS woman who is standing up to what society says we can throw away...mentally ill people.

When Mary left the hospital, the staff and kids on her floor had a going away party for her..and of course--more tears fell from everyone's heart. She had opened up more loving light, giving depth to why these people do what they do everyday. She had made more friends, not only with her floor--but with adults simply working in this space. We all sat in a large circle, watching Mary open her gifts and I recall a boy with a boombox- listening to music. Adding more life to this surreal moment...

What you don't see about the kids in this space, at least for some--is that they have no one. Most of their families are not available, whether it's poor parenting or being mentally ill themselves--these kids KIDS--CHILDREN--PEOPLE--LIVING LIFE...have no one to love on them the way Claire loves on her Mary.

So--thank goodness, again--because Claire happens to be herself--she has made it her intention to love on these kids in the way we all want to loved on at Christmas...with a gift to remind us we are acknowledged beings. Isn't that why gifts make us feel good? Ultimately, it reminds us we are being thought of and loved.

So love on Claire.
Love on Mary.
Love.

MC Yogi - GIVE LOVE (giving4living mix)

2010-11-23T06:34:00.000-05:00

In My Voice

2010-11-08T07:01:00.001-05:00

For a few weeks I've been thinking about my voice.
I don't know how many people think about this, but I do know I haven't
ever actually had a conversation about my voice...until tonight.
And I'm someone people share EVERYTHING with and since the topic of voice
hasn't come up, I don't think many people consider what their voice means.

I've been thinking about it more deeply lately, because I'm in the final
weeks of yoga teacher training and I've had to pay more attention to the way
my voice sounds in different rooms. The way it projects. The way I use my words. My tone.

With this intense weekend of asana's, also came a decent amount of meditation
time...which has actively allowed me think about my teaching comments
in a loving space. I appreciate that.

So--last night when I got home and BD called, I was telling him about
my classes and meditating. His words: "So really--I don't get it. What can you
accomplish by meditation?" I am sure this morning that him asking me was
a continuation of my discovery.

First I explained to him how difficult it is for most people to sit for more than 5 minutes.
We are going to do this together this week. I'll be interested in how that goes...but then
I told him about my voice "discoveries."

I explained that my first voice memory was when I was about 4 or 5. I barely recall this, but have heard the story many times in my life--I was at church, singing with my sunday school class...and when I say singing I mean really LOUD. You know the image..the one little kid singing in their own space, not worrying about anyone else--just being in it. Sweet thought--I know I enjoy those kid moments as a parent, but as a child I know that people were laughing--kindly, but I didn't understand that. Voice issue 1.

Time continues. I live in an all-boy neighborhood. Nothing says finding your voice and losing your voice with boys/brothers. I'm sure the same can be said with girls, but I have my memory with boys.

Then cheerleading.
Yes--oh sigh, I've come to terms with my cheerleading years--but if you knew me you just wouldn't see me as one...anyhow--my first year of cheering we went to a cheer camp with hundreds of girls at a local college. I was in 7th grade. I hadn't planned on being a cheerleader at all--I just tried out on a fluke and here I was. The cheer coaches were going around teaching us a cheer and it was making me nervous. I couldn't remember the movements with the words as quickly as I wanted. The coach came up to me and told me she couldn't hear me.
Cheer louder.
Still she couldn't hear me.
So what does she do but demand that the hundreds of other girls do not cheer and I am
to do the cheer alone.
My voice only.
I did it.
I don't have fond memories of that moment though.

Time continues.
See Bad Relationship post.
Voice issue 4.

Then it hit me in the shower last night that as my marriage started to
dissolve, I lost my voice in that too. Not in the beginning--but by the end
I was too tired to speak up.
To work.
To fight.
To cry.
I was being who I was--but without my voice.
Without being heard.

Now--I am finding the thoughts behind my voice.
Behind the strength.
Realizing when I am teaching, working, laughing...that when my voice
is clear and strong is when I am the most confident.
I feel my voice in my heart.
And when it is soft, I am either insecure or truly exhausted.
Sometimes I just am too tired to speak.
But finding the truth behind those moments.

In my voice.
XOXOXOX

Once upon many

2010-11-02T14:30:00.000-04:00

little bit

outside box

one night

once upon many

so wonderful to love

aliveness

with friends

Chaplins Time Traveler

2010-10-29T06:49:00.001-04:00

I stumbled upon this yesterday, as I'm sure alot of other people did...

I showed it to my girls this morning.
First--the concept of not having cell phones was almost inconceivable.
They also didn't know who Charlie Chaplin was.
Wow--I need to work on my parenting.
But then onto time travel.

I've watched this over and over again.
I generally don't watch things like this because I see it as a PR stunt...kinda
like the balloon boy. I still haven't watched that and honestly don't know what
the story is behind it.
I try to keep it real.

So, why is this so fascinating?
Do I want it to be real?

Of course.
I believe in so many metaphysical aspects of life--but I've never thought
much about time travel--outside of the Back to the Future movies.

Who wouldn't want to go
Back to the Future?
Who woulnd't want to go
Back
or
to the
Future?

I have no desire to alter the course my life because I believe things
happen for a purpose...and we all have lessons to learn.
If I changed something from the past that just doubles my lesson plans, doesn't it?
And as for the future--I'd love to see what clothes we wear.
How we live.
How we treat each other.

As I read the comments to this mans finding, I was surprised at the
the absolute dismissal of the idea of time travel.
I realize it's a scientific website and scientists want cold hard facts...but please people
just relax and consider the possibility.

Whether it ends up being a PR stunt or actual footage--I at least know my girls and I
had an interesting morning conversation.
Time travel.
Cell phones.
Charlie Chaplin.

All over a cup of coffee.

I am 1 in 4

2010-10-22T21:53:00.000-04:00

"I think I love you," he told me after one week of dating.
Even at 16 I understood that was impossible.
I laughed, "No you don't."
"Yes I do."
"No, you can't.." and then explained all the reasons he loved me, which again
I found funny.
The next week he wanted me to wear his highschool varsity jacket.
I didn't take it.
It was too quick.
First love, then his varsity coat.
Even my oldest friend found it moving too quickly.
She saw the first sign of the next 5 years of my life.

Just like Tarastar's post, this boy was very charming. I always felt part of the problem was the huge crush I had on him the year before. He was two years older and our paths crossed, but didn't have a reason to meet. He dated a girl, I was alittle afraid of, and they were constantly on-again-off-again. On our first date he showed me scratches up and down his arm, claiming she abused him. Now I am sure she was fighting back, but during that time, I simply didn't know what to think.

Also like Tarastar, my family was (and still is) very laid back. My parents had the occasional argument, along with some passive-aggressive issues...but that was about it. They were generally content with suburban life--dancing in the kitchen... kissing till they embarrassed my brother and I--just loving each other.

We began dating in November, but I didn't think it would last.
Maybe that's why I didn't take any of the signs too serious.
On our first date, when I mentioned I bought a peace-sign poster that day (oh yes the 80's) he told me he "didn't like any of that hippy shit." I knew that was the end of that.
Oh how many times I thought that.

We continued to date.
My next memorable obvious sign was him picking me up from school one day.
I was dressed in all black.
I don't recall what he said I looked like but I do remember him
making me change my shirt before he'd take me to his house.
He didn't want his parents to think he was dating whatever
I looked like.

Ok. I realize his making me, was allowing it--and going through with it, but
one thing that many people don't realize (or atleast I think) that
is when things moments happened--they were very surreal.
It was like I was suddenly outside of myself.
Separate.
And I fought most of his issues.
Which didn't help.

Time continued.
The first time he hit me was August 13.
I had gone dancing the night before and when I told him I danced
with someone that was all it took for a good hard slap, maybe.
I don't recall.
Some fights were much worse than others.
Some slapping.
Some punching.
Pizza smashed in my face.
Some choking.
Some pinning down.
All of the some though equals too much.

My family never knew.
My friends knew something wasn't right.
I had friends who tried to shun me for awhile to "help" me...
that just left me with more of him.

Eventually I knew the only way to break up once and for all,
because he was constantly breaking up with me for getting coffee with
her or spending money here...was to go away.
So--I went away to college and broke up completely for a few months.
But then came I back.
I missed him.
So in my now 18 year old brain--meant I must be with him.
Lesson learned early on that is not true.

18 and suddenly--engaged. I should've been estactic but my college friends knew
I was being rash and immature.
I had told them the truth.
And then I knew after months of deciding whether I was coming home to college,
I gave it up and gave in.
Home.
And as soon as we were out of town he announced,
"Now I'm breaking up with you...so you can know how it feels."
WHAT??
Instant tears.
This was not the love I signed up for.
He took it back, but within 3 months he was hitting me again.

The difference this time though was I wasn't going to take it.
I knew I didn't have to.
For 6 months we were in constant flux again...until the last year of our dating.
We suddenly had some sort of pattern worked out.
He had stopped hitting me.
I was confident.
We were both busy with school and working Domino's together.
But by this time it didn't matter--our relationship was damaged beyond repair.

And then I knew it was time to really break it off--
we were sitting at my parents kitchen table one night when he asked what
was wrong.
I told him, "I don't think I love you anymore."
Just like that.
I told him to leave.
I needed to think about things.
And really had the next week not transpired the way it did, who knows
how much more I would've put up with.
But that week did happen.

He started calling at 530 am...claiming I wasn't being myself. I was bi-polar.
Crazy--simply because I was done with the behavior I shouldn't have allowed
from our first few weeks together.
Again, like Tarastar--the police were involved. Days before the police incident,
he had tried to semi-kidnap me..claiming he was taking me to Utah, the one
place I told him I wanted to travel to. In reality he ended up taking me back
to his parents house.
We fought over the car.
Car keys.
Doors.
Words.
It's all hazy.
I was bruised for days.

And then the day the police were involved, I foolishly had gotten into his
truck to reclaim some of my belongings. As soon I got in he power locked the doors.
Being near a neighborhood park, I layed on the horn, yelling to call the police.
People did.
I ended up back at his house.
I didn't tell anyone there what happened.
I was so embarrassed.

My brother, best friend and another friend (I think) showed up to get me.
As we left, the police pulled up.
Then another.
Then 2 sheriffs.
Seemed I caused a stir.
Needless to say when I didn't press charges, because "I just want it be over" they
were not happy with that.
They threatened to charge me.
They didn't.

I went home.
I knew it was over.
For real this time.
No more bruises.
Mind games.
Nothing.

I will follow up to say he stalked me for a short time, but ended up marrying someone
else months later. I looked up his public record not too long again--he had a
domestic violence charged dropped.
My heart ached for his wife and children.
I suddenly thought had I pressed charges, maybe she would have.
Maybe she wouldn't have had his babies.
But he was charming.
He had money.
He created this lie I believed for a short time.
I hope she stops believing it too.

Random

2010-10-16T11:46:00.000-04:00

Originally I had another blog planned, but too many random thoughts are creeping in and I suppose the best way to blend is to get it all out...

Last week was my 20 year highschool reunion...and what I envisioned as being kinda ho-hum, ended up being pretty amazing. I couldn't get as crazy as I wanted, because yoga teacher training is keeping me semi-straight and narrow.. Really all I wanted was to visit with people I didn't remember and I had a few happy surprises..so yay:) Of course in the end, probably like all past visits, it caused me to do a lot of thinking---but that's copacetic.

Then, Sunday at yoga we did a chakra cleansing. I am not going to go deep into this because that will be another blog--but what I thought was going to be a comforting chant became the most powerful experience I've connected with in years. I was on a chakra-high for days and recentered myself..the self I am..not this working, single, dating, be-it-all, to everyone..just simple me. Joy. And really if you ever get the chance to be a part of a chakra cleansing..enjoy.

Skip ahead to the middle of the week--this weekend in town is something called Harvestfest...kinda like a Halloween party for adults. The town blocks off part of a street by a local restaurant, a band plays..people are drinking and dressed up in their Halloween costumes. Last year I went as a saultry Pippi-Longstocking (even more funny since I'm a librarian) but this year I could not commit to going. I've had people ask, text and facebook me about it...yet I couldn't decide. I finally did.

I guess I am.
But no dressing up this year.
Simple going.
Simple drink.
At least thats the plan,
for now.

There's much more..I just don't have it in me to think too hard at the moment.
I'm watching moments in the library basement.
Remembering the little girl who is all grown up

walking in

everyday to

Facebook

in her barefeet

now her fall-sock-feet

with the boyfriend suddenly wheelchaired

tattoed eyebrows

who are just trying to figure it out..

Yep.

Random.

Baby boy

2010-10-06T22:10:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was a baby day.

A baby day, not like I have one--because my three babygirls are tween/teen growing babies...but a day I got to HOLD babies.

Two boy babies, but it actually started with a semi-funny baby concept.

I was walking out of my area when a pregnant mom of two little girls walked up to me. We did the typical how-are-yous, when I asked how she was feeling and how beautiful she looked. She told me she felt how she thought she should feel, which I think may have meant INVADED because at a certain point, I know I felt that way. Anyhow she then said,

"So did I tell you I'm having another girl..."
And we laughed like we belonged some great girl-birthing club...but then she told me a friend just told her :) that they read some women may have enzymes in their uterus that kill off the male sperm...AND boy did we laugh. Sorry men. No offense. But it was a funny moment, that continued with me hold two boy babies afterwards...I'm sure there's a cosmic sign there if I meditate long enough on it.

Minutes after another mom walks up to me and starts chatting. Her oldest boy in school, middle girl on computer, babyboy in her arms lunging to me...Well--whats a girl to do, but give some baby loving. :))

Because I do love babies.
They come natural, but thats beside the point.

We stood there and talked. She is an absolutely stunning woman who is trying to figure out if she's done having babies. She's not in my opinion, but her husband is...and all along this talking, I'm loving this baby moment I'm getting--because my baby will be 11 soon.

And then I go home for my lunch to discover my friends sister is visiting with her two boys--one 3, the other 6 mo. Aaahhhh...more loving.

And I felt this overwhelming gratitude to have these few moments with these babysouls--but also a gratitude to not have the longing of being pregnant. I love/d being pregnant, I love the nursing...but it took me years to get over the true clock-ticking-whacha-gonna-do-with-the-rest-of-your-life-if-your-not-prego/littlebabyfied...that now, I'm grateful for where I am.

I miss those days of chaos and youth, but feel great at 38 I'm young enough to enjoy where I am too...able to love on babies and know it's all good:)