Here's my song of Sunday. I thank Mel for introducing me to Bonobo who I am loving like a bad habit these days. Cheers to good music, great friends and Sunday sun kissing your forehead.
Dear 2007:
You were like a dysfunctional lover. Always in my face with drama when I could ill afford it, always going dark when I felt like I most needed light. I spent at least 30 of your 52 weeks wondering exactly what I did in 2006 to deserve your angst. You brought out the very worst in me.
Or so I thought.
I did some reflecting over the last few weeks, and perhaps you were more the strong silent type rather than the evil, mean spirited life partner. Perhaps your silence and the slow, creaking passage of time was by your kind hearted design as opposed to an indication of your lack of willingness to participate in my plans. Perhaps...like a wise old soul, you were on a greater mission to teach me some lessons. And as usual, I wasn't going to even consider your point of view until I vehemently expressed everything I so desperately wanted you to understand. Still, you waited and continued to hand me some undeniable truths. Whether I wanted them or not.
I want to thank you for putting the mirror up in front of my face. For putting the monsters under my bed and slinging around the worst case scenarios until I came face to face with all of the things I dreaded most...and saw that perhaps they weren't so bad, after all.
Had it not been for loving, losing, living and dying...I might not have learned:
- No one's assessment of what I need, will ever be more relevant than my own assessment of what I desire.
- Nothing is ever as it seems - and all that seems barely ever is.
- Life is really simple (and much more enjoyable) once you acknowledge that you actually have little to do with controlling it.
- You can choose, even if it's choosing not to.
- The sweetest gifts are the ones you never see coming.
- Unsolicited advice can be offered, but it doesn't have to be accepted.
- Age? Doesn't have SHIT to do with maturity. (Experience, rarely does either. )
This year, I learned I was a potter. I learned to "allow" the gifts my grandmother gave me and acknowledge the many ways they have protected and guided me thus far. I learned that sometimes knowing what you know, is all you need to know. I learned the wisdom of silence and the reward of patience. I learned to love me, in my skin...as I am...in this very moment.
I learned that there is always a tomorrow, and that when you lose...you never really do.
I wanted to call you all sorts of names, 2007. I wanted to remember every horrifying moment of angst. Every tear. Every sleepness night. But now, as I prepare myself for a new year...I realize for each dark night you gave me a brilliant dawn. You gave me choices...and with those choices I opt to thank you for priming me.
Tell 2008 to get ready. I'm anxious to begin.
Cheers,
RPM
...and to all a good night.
Life can just seem to turn on a dime, can't it?
I'm rarely at a loss for words (though some would say I need to be), and yet in this time I find myself strangely silent. Not sure what to say. Not sure what to stir up, and what to leave undisturbed.
In the past, I've struggled with living in the moment. As soon as I feel some great surge of pleasure or pain, I go to an extreme - assuming the pain will last eternally or the joy will be swiftly followed by disaster. I realize now that that's partially because of the ride I've chosen to take. The choices I've made. The perceptions I've had about others and the deeper beliefs I've fostered about myself. Calamity is often designed, as we move through our lives quietly gravitating to the very things we say we want the least.
At some point, we find our rhythm. Running too fast or too slow, trying to mimic others and their cadence, at some point...we find a stride. There's no rulebook for it either, experience is the only navigational system or dance instructor you'll ever be given. I suspect it happens when we stop giving too much energy to sorting it out. Some call it, relaxing. Others call it no longer giving a damn. Whatever you call it, it seems once you get to that point, something clicks. Things fall into place. As if the Universe had been watching over your head and waiting for you to stop...well...stop getting in your own way.
I wasn't looking for anything. Sounds like a lyric to one too many songs, but honestly. I wasn't. I just wanted some peace of mind. One afternoon, for some reason, I decided I would build what I thought I wanted for myself in companionship at this moment in my life. And so I went about building him. First using abstract tools. Broad based themes around things like integrity, character, personality traits and such. And then I decided to add more detail. I tried to draw him in my mind. So that I could see him. I described what he would look like. I listed a height, I listed features. I even tried to find a way to describe his voice. I gave him civic responsibility and a host of other things I always admired and simply...things that made me feel warm. And good.
When I was finished, I had three pages of person prototype. As I read it back, I found how much of what I used to value, was no longer there. Some things, (like my height stipulation) remained. But I replaced some frivolous things like deep dark mysteries and complications that always seem more fluid and rewarding in movies than in reality, with tangible things that make me feel safe, warm and...well...loved. Not just in thought, not just in words, but in action. When I read through that prototype I realized just how far my life has carried me in the past five years.
I took those pages, ripped them up into tiny pieces and placed them in a heavy, flame friendly bowl. I lit a match. I dropped it in with a few bits of dried sage and set the bowl in my fireplace. Ever noticed how sweet burning paper smells? When there was nothing left but ash and thoughts of everything that's brought me from then to now...I felt no remorse. No anger. No resentment. I just felt free. I waited for the bowl to cool, then once the sun set and the evening sky gave me clearance to wish, I did. I tossed those ashes into a swirling breeze.
It certainly was no magic elixir. I didn't wake the next day and find Mr. Perfect lying in bed beside me. In fact, I woke with the same fragments of melancholy and fears of the unknown. I just decided that none of those things were bigger than my ability to endure those moments until they became something else. I also decided that loving me, absolute - good, bad and ugly would be infinitely more fulfilling than finding my love through another's eyes.
And then, *poof* a month or so later, I find myself having a random conversation with what I thought was a random person. A random person who had the voice I described. The manner I intimated. The character I painted. Eyes I know. The height I requested. The face I designed. The heart I felt might be best designed to nurture mine. At least, at a glance and as much as one could assume in a random encounter.
That was the first week of October.
I've been keeping secrets. But that's mostly because there's just not that much to tell. Nothing much that would mean much to anyone but he and I.
It's December now. I find myself anxious for the time we reserve for each other. He is comfortable. And reliable. Stronger than me, in all the ways I've always wanted. He is consistent and certain and steady and sure. And in my life where I'm everyone's keystone at some point or another, he is there at the close of each day...wanting only my hand. He is there like grandfather's chair, waiting for me to take off my hard hat and climb out of my shell and into him. I suppose he needed that as much as I did. To be seen. I imagine that's what any of us want, once we stop paying so much attention to everything else.
I just know its foreign. Being so warmed and so content with things I never knew even mattered to me.
I just know better than to make it anything else other than what it is, in this very moment and not what it should/could/may be, weeks and months from now.
I just know patience.
I just know that every little thing in this life, happens for a very important reason and we have to do little else but trust in that.
I just know that you really don't ever have to push. Not as much as we actually, do.
I just know this crush feels like the healthiest one I've ever had.
I just know for whatever purpose, he is here. And I like that.
Which breed of dog is your favorite? Post a picture of it.
Submitted by Melissa.
Ha!
Like you had to even ask...the horrifying, terror of bloodlust and carnage...the monstrous and savage Am Staff/Pit Bull Terrier. And yes, that was sarcasm. A heavy heavy dose.
Twitter has become a regular part of my life, casually glancing off to the bar on the left and seeing what my pals in the internet world are doing throughout the course of their day. Using this sort of social media is not at all unlike instant messaging in that your experience can be made joyous or annoying depending on the company you keep, and how you plan to use the tool.
Like Facebook, like the "Space I do not speak of" and a variety of other toys, monitoring your privacy is the chief concern...the second easily for me becomes keeping my friend list manageable and meaningful. This means, if I haven't met you virtually or otherwise by reading your work or interacting with you somewhere else, I won't add you. if I don't find what you do on the internet specifically relevant to my own interests or in the range of what I find entertaining or meaningful, I won't add you. If I wouldn't be inclined to sit in a cafe and chat with you, I won't add you.
Lately I've found myself whittling again. My rule of thumb has become, if you make me audibly sigh, or roll my eyes into my head and even grimace more than five times within one week...I have to ask myself if what you bring to the social medium is in alignment with information I find humorous, enlightening, informative or just plain thought provoking. It's not a mark against the person (I say this partially tongue in cheek recalling my own personal offense to being blocked without knowing why). It's just reserving the right to experience the internet as I like. Based on my preferences.
Twitter is the perfect example of putting my internet information guidelines to the test. And by default, my living guidelines for my personal information, anywhere. Twitter used to be a space I loved for it's ability to create communities of conversation. IM in a virtual cafe. Cool. By default, you begin adding the people you normally roam about the internets with...and maybe some additional folks that might be..."on the bubble." And sometimes those "on the bubble" ones can throw your experience out of whack. I, in particular, have a thing about TMI. There are things I don't go into excessive detail about, regarding my life. Wrong or right, I like what I see, to mirror that. Is it being closed-minded, pretentious or haughty to want to guard the sanctity of my eyes and ears? After all, who am I to judge what is newsworthy and what is not? What are the "TMI guidelines?" I would imagine they vary, person to person...but I'll take a stab at telling you mine. I will use twitter as my social media example.
I won't go into intimate details about my relationships. If I am seeing someone, you may know that. Details about them, minutiae about our everyday interactions or updates on our current agreements or disagreements? That belongs exclusively to me. if I do make mention of something, I try to do so in a manner that protects the privacy of the other party. And only if might in someway share something relevant to all of us.
Obviously, I won't divulge excessive details about my career, my company, my job or other people affiliated with my company. This does not include the occasional "vent" which will and should be handled with the same reverence regarding privacy of the other party.
- Oh, and about minutiae. We all like to share it, especially when it's amusing or unusual. But every little thing done in the course of your day from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep does not constitute amusing or unusual or amusing. I have a cap on what I want to know about each and every person I've known and cared for. If you feel a need to tell me every thought that has ever manifested itself in your brain...you can expect I'm going to get bored, or annoyed, very quickly.
- It's morning. Yes. Can we just say, "goodmorning all"...and be done with it? I'm all for individualized greetings if there is something additional that needs to be said to that party...but, running down a tweet list of eighty people all saying goodmorning to each other feels a bit like the Waltons. I was raised in a family of five. That means five good mornings are my limit.
- You picking your toes and using the evidence to mortar bricks together? I'm pretty sure that qualifies. If it isn't something you'd want a lover, or coworker to know...please rest assured I didn't want to know either.
- Do you love your spouse? Think they are especially hot, sexy, smart, annoying, gifted whatever? That is great. Tell them a hundred times a day, not me.
- Do you love yourself? Think you are especially hot, sexy, smart, powerful, inspired, god-like? That is great. Tell yourself in the mirror a hundred times a day, not me.
- Wanna argue with someone? Either take it offline and actually face your conflict and the other person, or spar with them through instant messenger, or email...hell fight them in an online game room...just, don't assume I want to be the audience for your debate.
- You tweetin' 20 times an hour? Rest assured that half of what you just said (unless covering a major news story, or recounting your experience making love to an alien in a Starbucks bathroom) will be qualified as TMI.
- Shaving? Using the rest room? Farting excessively? Conducting a breast self examination? Darning a sock? If you are doing all of these things simultaneously that might be news. If not...you might be teetering into the TMI zone.
Sometimes, everyday stuff is amusing, ironic, humorous, even significant. The problem is...some of us don't understand that just because we can 'think out loud' all day long...doesn't necessarily mean we should. Give it some thought, after all...
You are what you tweet.
And so he comes to me at a point in my life where I've lost my faith in man.
I suppose that's always the way it goes.
It's an unusual feeling for me, this crush. It seems to have come nearly made to order, after I created my wish list a few months ago. So made to order, I almost have to laugh. Some things are different, but I am getting the larger point in my unspoken request.
I feel no sense of fear or uneasiness. His voice is like my grandfather's easy chair. I climb into it...into him as we trade stories about where we've been from then...to now. We don't pretend it's anything more than it is. He's too wise to rush, I'm too careful to delude myself. And still, these conversations go on...and on...and on until phones are dead or near dying and there's nothing left to do but playfully schedule the next session. There are pregnant pauses and chuckles that rest harmlessly in the backs of our throats. There is simplicity. There is candor offered only by one who has truly seen himself in the mirror, and is comfortable with the man looking back at him. There is the quiet confidence of someone who knows he will do everything he says, because talk without action is a tremendous waste of time.
I am long over bells and whistles. I'm too cautious for charm and games are for silly little children who want to pretend they're grown. This is too boring and dry, even to write about. And yet, I write..simply to tell you that I am smiling this evening. Feeling good about the most ordinary of things. Ordinary things I was beginning to think simply didn't apply to me anymore.
It's everything, and nothing. And that is all I could have asked for in this moment.
Consider my faith...restored. In many things, but most importantly, in me.
