Monthly Archives: July 2011

WARNING: never mix metaphor, guns and alcohol

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i’m excited this morning, my head filled with various instruments of dissonance…enough that my thoughts blend and twist and delight and disturb me like a favorite My Bloody Valentine track…with enough layers to combine a dirge with elation and compress it all into one long, busy sigh of complicated pleasure.

why so dissonant? my dreamy self will dress soon, in long, protective sleeves. this emotional pacifist will put on some badassery, inside and out, grab my badass best friend and go shoot some guns. hells yeah. we will learn our careful aim and techniques from a Texan, a real ranger, someone with lots of guns. i will shoot at circles or other inanimate targets, haunted by visions and the ghost of an ever-preserved charlie heston. i will fire safely down a range, prepared for the recoil of the gun, and maybe my soul a little. i know i will flinch at least…challenge my ears, my nerves and my gentler sensibilities. and. i. can’t. wait.

mixed emotions can make me ambivalent…or they can thrill me. mixed emotions are the signage that advertise my boundaries for me. sometimes i need to sift through to the firmest emotions and fortify a boundary…and sometimes blow one apart. today i will do the latter in a most literal way. that’s (one of) the funny thing(s) about boundaries…we need to establish protective boundaries, the kinds that teach others how to respect and please and support us in being our best outrageous selves. then we need to turn to our inner gunslinger and blast our way through the boundaries that limit what we think we are entitled to experience in this life.

i love comfort. i’ve kept jeans longer than any job or relationship i’ve ever had…but i bet like me, you feel the beauty and perfection of comforting things most when you come back from somewhere well outside your comfort zone. staying inside that zone decreases the scope of what we think of as possible, as acceptable, as inevitable. comfort zones breed contentment, then boredom, and then either complacency or rebellion. some people find complacency to be a natural, inert state. i find that complacency destroys both my sanity and the refuge of my comfort zones…makes them into dingy, depressing prisons of habit and stunted opportunity. from within those prisons, i can only decide to die or rebel.

so i’m going to go blow some holes through my complacency, renovate my comfort zone, add a piercing rapport to the sound of my rainbows, throw a pinch of gunpowder in for flavor and lay a little heat on my palate. sounds to me like a meal i might wash down with an ice cold mexican beer when it’s all said and done…or maybe some tequila…to flush the lead taste from my mouth and swallow the awkward chunks of these poorly mixed metaphor. wow,  i’m thinking in some seriously strange tasting visuals about guns and alcohol. thank God i’m not driving.

(c)rickety morning

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the flood gates opened yesterday and words upon words tumbled out of my head, through fingers, sneaking into posts, emails and texts, some well and some badly. now i feel a bit spent, a little weak…like the morning after a good puking drunk. i want to write with inspiration, and i do feel inspired…to do something…but somehow the jackhammer outside my front door at 7:27 am on a fryday is jarring me out of any deeper thoughts than these. i thought jackhammers were only metaphorical anymore, or only used in inherently loud places like highways and metro stops. it seems more meaningful, like a sign (of what?), for the crew to be here, disturbing my tiny townhouse neighborhood where children’s elevated laughter is tolerated…sometimes. i’m more grateful this morning than ever that “puking drunk” appears rarely in my adult lexicon. jackhammers and hangovers? too poetic to be real.

so under all of the rainbows exist very normal days…the to and fro of the workaday world…our noses and eyes cast downward at the grindstones that feed us, cast away from loftier things. that workaday world beckons me, a reluctant participant again lately, as i steal morning moments and tuck them away for myself, here behind these words. i suppose that will be easy enough to remember if i want to peruse them again later…i hate when i put things in that “special place” i won’t forget. it’s always the same special place that i will never remember later. i try not to spend too much time browsing old moments, but sometimes i need to refresh my memory of just who i’ve become and who i want to be today, so it’s nice to keep certain ones in a safe place. and i will admit to some reminiscing and sentimentality when it comes to my relationship with letters A-Z. that, and with a life full of outrageously ALIVE moments, it’s nice to capture a few and use them to fuel the rush and the desire to make more. it helps to remember how i can feel sometimes…because feelings are so fickle…like my big family, they can’t sit still or stay all together very long without causing some chaos, and some of them are rather reluctant partners when paired for certain tasks.

it’s early, in a quiet house, a quiet heart and a settled mind…that wasn’t very much jackhammering after all. even in the quiet i’m not finding some profound thing to say, some “hook” for a reader other than me, so let these words be part of my peace meditation today. let me find joy and balance and soul on a soft, crickety friday. and please let me find one more cup of steaming coffee in the carafe in the kitchen. please.

illuminated

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i’m finding little bits of beauty in every sound and the spaces between them…every view, eyes closed or open…every feeling, of terror or joy or sorrow. i’m stumbling through icy mountains of velvety dreams, slipping and sliding and barking shins along an exhilarating path. my journey has no destination now, except for each next step. i’m looking around in the day at hand, darting toward flowers, inspecting the peculiar and the new, feeling my skin in today’s sun, examining clouds in today’s sky, hearing Love in the beat of today’s heart. i highly recommend it.

this feels like a high, except that within it i feel deeply, and even celebrate, the lows, making me wonder and hope that feelings of enlightenment need not be so transient as they have in my life leading up to these days. some memory, some embers of my awakenings always glow, even if dimly, even in the longest, darkest tea-times of my soul. somewhere in the darkest of those darks, i will feel the spark of my compassion and dignity and Love. some air, from fresh and compassionate, passionate breaths will fan and feed it until the spark flames into something warming. and right now i’m stretching my soul after all of the fresh breaths of friends and family have melted the snow and ice that froze and preserved “me” and my Love until i was ready to express them again.

the resilience of light is intrinsic and sparkles with glory. light seeps through every crack, every seam, every pinhole in the protective walls of dark we sometimes build around our hearts and lives. it desperately wants in and will illuminate all it can in the face of best efforts to contain it. it glows within dark chambers, suggesting its presence like a present, wrapped and waiting for the special day designed for its unveiling. light is Love…it is inescapable…it finds you and wraps life in a blanket of purpose.  i am warm now, and seated firmly in Love. my life sparkles with possibilities…enough to share…enough to cast light and illuminate the shadows for anyone who crosses or joins me on this trail of laughter and tears.

anyone with pure intentions or the need for soft company is welcome…..

making examples and midnight snacks

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i’ve learned a lot of things the hard way. a lot of things. so many that i feel lucky to have made it through the sometimes deadly terrain of the hard way alive. and i’m really, really alive.  i feel i’ve perfected the hard way and am ready to move on.

mastery of the hard way* means i can have some faith in myself, take some more risks, better calculated, and know i’ll survive them (probably). mastery of the hard way my way means i’m becoming my best self, by the skin of my teeth, and having a blast pulling it off. that last part is important…kinda the whole point actually. i’m trying hard to shorten the list of possible things i might regret not doing in one lifetime. i might be more dedicated than most, i’m not sure. i’ve lived until it hurt, seen my best guesses blow apart and found myself more raw than i ever realized was possible. i’ve done that a few times, actually. still, part of the essential me always comes back and, these days especially, is coming out sound, strong, kind and present.

so i’m writing here and evolving here. i’m finding a voice. which probably sounds strange coming from someone who talks a lot for a living. maybe you’ll help. i’m not even sure who “you” is supposed to be (maybe you aren’t either), but i’m tired of waiting for the perfect _(infinite list of fill-ins)__ to get it started. we all have dreams that poke at us using different voices, sometimes encouraging, sometimes discouraging. at least i think we all do. most of us? i guess all i really know is that i’m living my dreams right now, nightmares and all. every day. one day at a time. and if you read this, you’ve made your contribution to the softer of those dreams, and most passionate. i’m not sure yet how a blog might change my life, or how my blog might change your life…i’m not sure just how a blog would do all of that. in fact i hate the word “blog,” which closely follows “blogger” on the short list of Words I Loathe. i am sure, though, that there’s a way to live across this whole spectrum of feeling we’re given and be full, be happy, be mindful, be free and make this life a giant rainbow of fruit flavors for ourselves. i’m a living example. and for once, making an example of me sounds pretty fun.

now i want fruit flavors. midnight snack. right on time.

*one time disclaimer: mastery of this page and of formal grammar rules means i can do what i want on these pages with all grammar – punctuation…word parts…spelling….sentence structure, etc. and to read this you will have to forgive my abhorrence for capital letters. it’s a personal thing, developed over time. i’m sorry if it makes reading harder, i just like the small ones better. i don’t have a more complicated artistic reason. also, i think in ellipses…a lot. let’s just get that out of the way. i like to think of it as “lyrical.” if i think of it at all.