the dream life

Small is big

Sometimes I wonder if my friends want to be mentioned here -- if they want me to say I did such and such or went where oh were with them. Perhaps they would prefer I not mention them at all. Perhaps everyone who reads this wishes I stuck to the bigger topics and leave alone the minutia of my life. After all, does it really matter how I spent my afternoon?

Except that it does matter because the large is in the small. How we spend our afternoon is how we spend our lives. The meeting for coffee, the browsing in shops, the small phone calls, the tiny choices. These things are the thing, or within these things is the thing. Big and small signs. Big and small answers. Blinding beauty.

This afternoon I met a friend for coffee and look, her latte was decorated with a leaf. 

I saw a long white feather on the floor. The fact that it was a straw wrapper made no difference. A feather is a feather, even when it's a discarded piece of paper. 

We shopped next door, admired hats and pink velvet sofas.

Then we went to the bookstore and I bought poems.

I'm making decisions, reading the signs, asking and receiving, and having a friend who can say back to me, yes, no, this is the right track, this is the wrong track, is crucially important. 

This time of year we talk big. Everything seems big. Everything starts with this time of year. There is a weight to the air we breathe, meaning in the smallest gesture, because we are looking for meaning. We want it to be big. We look to the sky and wait for it to crack open. We ask for the gift of sight and the thing is, we have it. It's right here. It's in these small things, the conversations we have in the back of coffee shops, the things that pass between us as we notice the interesting hats.

The universe speaks to us. 

The universe speaks through us.

I'm listening.

Reconnection

I have this theory that we come into this world in soul groups and as we navigate our way through life, we flow in and out of the lives of the others in our group because we hold some sort of information or healing salve for one another or just because we want to check in, the way a group of kids who just got dropped off at the mall might plan to meet back in front of the Piercing Pagoda at 4:30.

Today was a check-in day. My friend Amy hosted a big beautiful Italian lunch at her house for some of us who met in elementary school. I didn’t go on through middle school and high school with them, so I don’t share those memories, but they are each a part of the fabric of my childhood. We have different lives and different plans and different perspectives, but we are connected by the magic of social networking. (Whenever I hear people say the internet is isolating I wonder what on earth they’re talking about. It is what keeps me from isolation.)

I knew I would have a fun time with this group but it was even better than I'd hoped. It's such a good thing to reconnect with people, retrace stories and remember things together. We laughed a lot, and shared sorrows, too. There's just something about the people with whom you were a child. 

We also wore big rings. (Because we are fabulous.)

Outward

It's the time of the year when social engagements take center stage. I glanced at the calendar today and noticed that my next two weekends are completely booked up. These are all joyous events and I'm looking forward to them but it hasn't always been that I could look at such scheduling and feel good about it.

I've always thought of myself as someone who needs a lot of down time, alone time, time that is controlled by me and does not have to adhere to anyone else's expectation about when I'm supposed to be where, when I have to wake up or when I have to go to sleep.

I've always thought of myself as an introvert and I've always assumed this is just the way I am. Lately, I've felt a slight shift toward a more extroverted personality. I'm still one to cancel plans at the last minute because I need to be by myself, but I'm doing more out in the world these days and responding to a social impulse more than I have in the recent past.

I loved this post at Halfway to Normal and I was struck by a comment made by one of the unravelling participants last week. She defined introversion and extroversion not as inclinations of personality but like this- an introvert draws energy from being alone while and extrovert draws energy from being with others. That makes a lot of sense to me. 

I like the idea that the pendulum of what feeds me is swinging. I like the idea that it can swing. 

While I do sense parts of myself that I think of as essential to my identity, I also know that I'm always changing and evolving. My life responds to my desire and my desire shifts. I'm not locked in to anything.

NaBloPoMo.

Babies of 1969 unite (& put your party shoes on)

My birthday being in February, I was one of the first of my classmates and same-age friends to cross over from the thirties into the forties, but the season of birthdays has really ramped up now with people turning 40 all over the place, and it’s a lot of fun. I love reading and hearing about each person’s take on this and I have to say, I’m impressed with how overwhelmingly positive my friends are. There seems to be a general consensus that this coming decade is going to be the best one yet. It’s like we’re all gathering this energy and putting these intentions out in to the world and simultaneously shedding everything that we no longer need while embracing what we truly want. (And in case you’re wondering, everybody looks fantastic!)

I owe you

Thank you cards, e-mail responses, replies to your comments, comments on your blog posts. I have busy evenings this week and on Saturday, I'm happily leading a workshop for the Young Women Writers Project. After that, I'm thinking time will stretch a little bit. It will stay light later and it won't be quite so cold and I'll have time to clean off the guest bed and make the novel revisions that are clanking around in my head and write my words to you -- you who have blessed me with gifts and kindness. I will get boxes in the mail. I will send cards.

My silence in response to your generosity is not due to lack of appreciation -- only my lack of organizational skills.

O, I'm back...and I'm bringing friends

Like many many people, I have watched so many hours of Oprah in my life, I sort of feel like I know her. Well let's be honest, I do feel like I know her. I feel like we hang out. (And I don't really care what her "real" personality is like; I've heard stories about her being less than nice, but this matters to me not at all, because I don't believe it). I've read many of the books she's suggested over the years. I even think it was from Oprah and not, in fact, Joseph Campbell, that I first heard the words, "Follow your bliss." It was because of Oprah that I ever even began the process of thinking about life's purpose.

I don't like talk shows, and won't watch them, but the Oprah Show is different. I haven't, however, been able to watch it for a long time because of my work schedule. (I also have some vague memory of something making me mad, but I can't remember what it was so, all is forgiven.)

West side

Somewhere there is a picture of me with black hair wearing a red skirt and a black sweater, bending down to hang an ornament on a large unadorned tree.

I moved to New York on Thanksgiving weekend 1992. Through a series of serendipitous events, I ended up in an apartment I couldn’t really afford, in a neighborhood I loved (the West Village), with roommates who were models and actors – actual models and actors with headshots and impossibly long legs and sparkling white teeth. They were unbelievably kind and welcoming to me and took me along with them when they went out on the town; I felt like a baby hippopotamus walking with gazelles.

The living room of the apartment had no furniture except for a throw rug, a television and a gumball machine, which was all we needed, really.

I don’t remember how we got the Christmas tree. I don’t remember if we went together to a lot to pick it up or if one of the roommates had it delivered or if maybe it was artificial. I remember that someone told me to hang an ornament and she took the picture and that simple act felt to me like an invitation to belonging, and I remember feeling almost like a character dressed in someone else’s clothes.

Velvet, beer, gatherings

December 1989, Lexington

Not that I could wear it anymore, but I wish I’d hung on to that dress – it had a beautiful drape and dragged the floor slightly. I bought it at the Salvation Army.

I can’t remember if we were on our way to a party or if the party was to be held there, in the apartment on Maxwell. I can’t remember if I had a boyfriend at the time or what I wished for that year or much of anything about this night except for how unsure of myself I felt, how convinced I was that I was fat and unattractive. I distinctly remember that I felt self-conscious about the fact that the dress was sleeveless. My arms, I thought, were gigantic and hideous.

It was twenty years ago. I was in college and searching for myself in every word that I read, every moment that I lived, every dream and experiment. I changed every day, turning one way then the next, trying on ideas for size. I would drop out then go back again. Everything was heavy, important, alive.

Tales of the long weekend

Hello from Sunday morning. The crisp sunshine of the long weekend has transitioned into cold rain. There are many chores to be done - groceries to be purchased, dishes to be washed, clothes to be folded and put away, but just now I'm sitting with my coffee.

Tracy and I spent all day Thursday doing nothing. While others baked and cooked and cleaned and prepared, we sat on the couch. I managed to make some last-minute place cards and whipped together a snack of pumpkin dip. He played the guitar and we sang a few songs but mostly, we watched the Macy's Parade and Miracle on 34th Street and jumped up at the last minute to go to dinner.

Al Green gets next to us

A couple of months ago, Amy asked Tiffany and me if we would be interested in going to the Norton Center for the Arts to see Al Green. The three of us had never spoken of it before but each of us loves Al Green, so Tiffany and I both said yes and Amy got our tickets and last night was our night.

 

They were thinking of me when they manufactured these

It's kind of strange how periods of growth and emotional prosperity seem to be followed by little dips. Maybe it's not strange at all, but just a part of the natural order of things.

I seem to be in a little dip. I've been run down and out of sorts all weekend. 

There was one high spot -- Alexa dropped by. It was lovely to see her and she also gave me this:

 

Yes. Those are Being John Malkovich nesting dolls. How cool is that? (Very cool.)

Ushering in the 'bers

My friend Sarah and I share a deep love for the months that end in 'ber. We are fall people. Fall is our time.

So even though it's over ninety degrees today and will be that way for a while yet, I open my arms wide to September and welcome it because fire pits and bell sleeve cardigans and giant mugs of pumpkin latte are just around the corner.

I always feel that magic is strongest in the fall when the veil between human and spirit gets oh so very thin. If you want to know how I define God, all you have to do is take a walk in the woods when the leaves are all firey reds and golds and there's an ever so slight chill in the air. 

This fall, in particular, is going to be a spiritual stunner. Things are underfoot. Changes are coming. I can feel it and I'm ready. I'm also ready for mulled cider and fingerless gloves and autumn candles and costumes and baking.

I decided to make a digital dream board this morning, to remind myself that this heat is on its way out and to focus on the goodness that is waiting in the wings.

Goodbye day

It's just that time of year when we push ourselves ahead...
Dar Williams, The End of the Summer

Yesterday morning, Tracy and I said goodbye, with coffee and donuts, to Carter, Jene', Lily, Spike 

and Yoda, who moved to a new city. We're so sad to see them go, but happy for them because new adventures are always good. We plan on staying in touch with them via visits and Skype video calls, but we will really miss having them here.

With only a few hours to recover, last evening we went to a going away party 

 

for my friend and fellow Kapower, 

Randi. My friend and Kapower Rachel will also be moving in about  two weeks.

So, it was a big day for goodbyes and best wishes, and I felt tearful a lot and also excited for beautiful people who are taking steps toward their dreams and evolving and growing. 

Everything right now (because the weather the past couple of days has been unseasonably cool) feels like the end of one season and the beginning of the other, feels like the start of school, and I trust now that fall, my favorite time, is coming and (my friend and Kapower Sarah) mentioned a song by Dar Williams called The End of the Summer which is about this very thing - about people you love packing up and going.

All this leaving is making me think about the friendships I hold dear and how to be a better friend.

And it's making me think about change and taking control of it -- not living life by default.

And these are good things to think about, I believe.

Prayer, answered

Yesterday afternoon at work I had to stop what I was doing for a moment and sit and my desk and pray. I use that word "pray" rather than "talking to spirit," which is something I do pretty much nonstop, because I'm referring to something a little more desperate.  I had to stop for a moment, palms up, and ask whomever or whatever was listening for help. I didn't think I could make it through the rest of the afternoon. I was too tired. I was just deep down bone tired.

I asked for help getting plugged back in to the energy that I know is always flowing. I knew that through the repetition of self-defeating patterns, I'd unplugged myself from the source of it. I needed help plugging back in.

I thought it was not out of the realm of possibility that I might fall onto the floor and stay there, sprawled out, and that my coworkers may or may not find me. If someone did find me, I would have to apologize but explain that I'd simply given out, become unplugged. No, no, don't help me up, I'd have to say. Just go about your business.

So I said my prayer. And I didn't feel better. And I tried to do what I was there to do and I wondered how would find the strength to drive home, cook dinner, take a shower, go to bed. That's what I was focused on. If I could just find the strength to do those things, I would be all right.

A few minutes later, Tracy called. He said a friend of ours was playing with his band at Thursday Night Live and he wanted to go. Now, Tracy rarely wants to go out and do something like listen to music on a work day, so I didn't take this phone call lightly. 

When I got off work, I drove home and changed clothes and we came back and found seats on the fountain and listened.

 

 

The weather was beautiful. There was no humidity and there was a slight breeze. The park was full of people with their camping chairs and coolers and dogs.

 

 

It was so nice. Everything about it was pleasurable and it didn't matter that it was Thursday night. I didn't feel tired anymore.

We had dinner with our friend at Cheapside then came home and it was still light out so we decided to take Woody to the dog park. I didn't complain to myself that I was too tired for the dog park because suddenly, miraculously, I felt fine.

Just as we were leaving the house there was a knock on the door and it was my brother.  My sister in law was away and the girls were home with a babysitter and my brother's arm is in a sling so he can't drive but he thought he'd like to go to a bookstore. It's pretty rare that my brother has time for just hanging out like that, so we hopped in my car and Tracy and Woody went off to the park and Chad and I went off to the bookstore. It was closed, so we ventured on up the road to another one and we shopped for a while.

As I floated around looking at books I noticed all the other people who were outside of their homes, relaxed and enjoying their evening. It was 8:36 when I looked at my phone to see what time it was and I was surprised to find that at 8:36 I was one of the people out of my house, relaxed, enjoying the evening.

 

We went home when we were ready and I sat on the porch for a while and enjoyed how beautiful the night was, then Tracy and Woody arrived home from their adventure and we went inside, got ready for bed. Never during the course of my evening did I feel that I might collapse.

 

It was a lovely gift for a Thursday night.

Kapow! heals me yet again

I have this tendency to want to spend my weekends at home and stretch out every second of them. Today I was reminded of how restorative and necessary it is to go out in the world and be with people and see things and not even look at what time it is or care.

My writers group, the most fabulous group in all the land, met in Midway today for lunch and dessert and shop browsing.

   

It was a great day spent with people I love. I saw some beautiful jewelry and smelled some delicious body butters and I enjoyed the scenic drive there and back.

On my way back into town I did some necessary grocery shopping then when I got home, after a whole day out and about, I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher and cleaned out the refrigerator. This may sound like normal stuff to you, but it is highly abnormal for me to have that much energy.

After that, Tracy and I even went to an early movie.

This day taught me something about flowing and being in the moment. It reminded me to let go and have fun and complete the task at hand and say yes to things and just be.