Carry it Around

I remember a friend of mine saying that as she worked through her issues in therapy, it was as if she was removing rocks from her pocket, one by one, and each time she unloaded one, she felt a little bit lighter. I can relate. The releasing I've been working on of late is definitely lightening my load.

A couple of weekends ago my kids and I went to Chicago to see a former babysitter and dear friend. Here we are at the beach at Navy Pier on the beautiful Saturday afternoon we enjoyed.

I post this photo here, with this song, because my daughter insisted on carrying a brick around in her backpack that she found while we were down there. Not surprisingly, the backpack got heavy for her, and she asked me to carry it on numerous occasions. I told her I'd carry the backpack but she'd have to get rid of the brick. "I'll carry the brick" she answered. And she did, through part of one day into the next. Just before we were leaving the city, we stopped to see a monument, and she set the brick down. I didn't remind her to pick it up again when we left, and she ended up leaving it there. I expected, at some point, the subject of the forgotten brick to come up, but it never did.

Yes my friends, the refrain to this song:

If you don't want it

Why would you carry it around?

...applies to both literal and figurative bricks alike.

Here's to putting both kinds down, leaving them behind, and moving forward without looking back. This may be particularly challenging for me this coming weekend when my kids and I head up to spend time with my family, but I'm feeling pretty prepared with all this healing work I've done lately.

Plus, I'm armed with some incredibly wise words from Walt Whitman:

Reexamine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul.

I plan to do exactly that, and without carrying it around!

Back to Black

I decided to set my alarm to get up early today and start a morning meditation and yoga practice. Although my alarm clock holds and plays an ipod, I haven't figured out how to tell it to wake me up with music rather than the buzzer. Lame, I know, but the sorta cool thing is, sometimes it just happens.

Today I woke up to one of Amy Winehouse's classics (she's such a beauty in this video, too):

We only said goodbye with words

I died a hundred times

You go back to her

And I go back to

Black, black, black, black, black, black, black,

I go back to

I go back to...

I love Amy Winehouse, and it makes me very sad that she died, but I was glad that she was the one to wake me up today. The last couple of days I've had a very powerful feeling that I'm capable of anything, including being an early riser, resuming my long-shelved meditation practice, and not letting the pain of the past drag me down any further, for starters.

As I laid there listening to her sing about love, drugs, loving drugs and dying a hundred times:

I love you much

It's not enough

You love blow and I love puff

And life is like a pipe

And I'm a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside

We only said goodbye with words

I died a hundred times

You go back to her

And I go back to.....

I could hear so much sadness and resignation in her voice, but I bet she had moments when she felt capable of anything. I'm not sure one could possess that voice and not have some pretty damn in-your-power moments. I sure wish she'd been able to stay in her power longer, but I know she must've been in an incredible amount of emotional pain, and in the grip of a really strong addiction, to keep going back to black the way she did.

Speaking of going back to black, I was out at a bar with a friend last night and there was a TV on right in my line of vision broadcasting a sporting event. Most of the time I'd be sort of offended by that or at least unhappily distracted, but this particular sporting event was glorious to behold: Serena Williams in a U.S. Open match. What an amazing athlete! What a beautiful woman! I love the juxtaposition of her proudly bared cleavage and her linebacker legs. She's redefining feminine beauty, and, along with her sister, what's possible for black women in the game of tennis. Or any other game, for that matter.

On my cushion this morning, I wrote in my gratitude journal for the first time since March. Both Amy's am serenade and Serena's sheness made the list today. 

Here's to feeling your power and embracing it and the many ways -- music, muscles -- that can inspire others...

Death and All Of Its Friends

It feels like I've been on the edge of a big shift now for months. I had that pain in my lower back this spring and earlier in the summer that just refused to go away, forcing me to get help for it. I started to hear my meditation cushion call to me -- didn't heed the call until just this week -- but I heard the call -- I took my hands off my ears and stopped loudly saying "la la la" to drown out the noise.

I mean figuratively saying la la la, which gets translated a variety of ways, including enjoying not just my usual one tasty alcoholic beverage paired with a meal or capping off a mountain bike ride, but having another more often than just occasionally. Being the child of an alcoholic and the grandchild of an alcoholic and a drug addict, I am finely attuned to the urge to numb and when I notice these urges visiting me more frequently, I tune in, take stock, and see what feelings I might be trying to snuff out without having to feel them.

Usually it's the uncomfortable ones; shame's high on the list, fear, pain. I'd list anger, but anger's got a way of finding its way out with or without my help -- it just comes out in healthier ways when I heed it consciously than it does when I'm less conscious. Plus, I learned a number of years ago that anger is merely a messenger. I don't say that to minimize its importance, just to note that anger comes to announce that something isn't right, some need isn't getting met, one of those other feelings (fear, hurt, frustration) is present but not being openly acknowledged.

I went to see one of my teachers last weekend, the one who taught me about anger, and she too sensed the big shift. She said it felt like a death, and, up early this morning, I turned on ipod shuffle only to have Coldplay sing its agreement:

All winter, we got carried
Oh way over on the rooftops let's get married.
All summer we just hurried
so come over, just be patient, and don't worry.
So come over, just be patient, and don't worry.

So come over, just be patient, and don't worry.

And don't worry.

Not worrying is definitely part of it. When I woke up at 4am this morning and didn't immediately fall back to sleep, I was content to rest, when before I might've fretted about what would happen if I didn't get enough sleep. Eventually, I rolled over to turn on the music, and now I'm taking advantage of the time I have to write while my babes are still sleeping, and enjoying the increasing clarity I get from both the music and the writing.

But it's more than just not engaging in worry. It's also giving up the struggle, in big and small ways. Learning to be with what is, because, like Chris Martin and friends, I don't want to spend the rest of my life fighting the same battles over and over again, many of which were with myself and ghosts from my past:

No I don't wanna battle from beginning to end;
I don't wanna cycle, recycle revenge;
I don't wanna follow death and all his friends.

Instead, I'm asking myself one question as often as I can remember it: "What can I do to be kind to myself in this moment?" I have a feeling this shift is going to have a profound effect on my life. It's already starting to...

I Got You Babe

I think one of the things I enjoy most about Mad Men is how aesthetically pleasing it is: the men are beautiful, the women are beautiful, their wardrobes are beautiful, and often, the soundtrack is beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful, I'm not sure I've seen anything more beautiful than Sonny and Cher, circa 1965, singing their classic (the video is a must-watch):

[HER:] They say we're young and we don't know
We won't find out until we grow
[HIM:] Well I don't know if all that's true
'Cause you got me, and baby I got you

[HIM:] Babe
[BOTH:] I got you babe I got you babe

[HER:] They say our love won't pay the rent
Before it's earned, our money's all been spent
[HIM:] I guess that's so, we don't have a pot
But at least I'm sure of all the things we got

[HIM:] Babe
[BOTH:] I got you babe I got you babe

[HIM:] I got flowers in the spring I got you to wear my ring
[HER:] And when I'm sad, you're a clown
And if I get scared, you're always around
[HER:] So let them say your hair's too long
'Cause I don't care, with you I can't go wrong
[HIM:] Then put your little hand in mine
There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb

[HIM:] Babe
[BOTH:] I got you babe I got you babe

Yeah, some of the lyrics are a little bit goofy, but these two lovebirds sure do a masterful job of radiating the kind of light that can only come from love.

My babes make fun of my boyfriend and I for calling each other babe. One day though, they'll understand exactly what it feels like to have a babe of the Sonny and Cher variety:

[HIM:] I got you to hold my hand

[HER:] I got you to understand

[HIM:] I got you to walk with me

[HER:] I got you to talk with me

[HIM:] I got you to kiss goodnight

[HER:] I got you to hold me tight

[HIM:] I got you, I won't let go

[HER:] I got you to love me so

[BOTH:] I got you babe

I got you babe

I got you babe

I got you babe

I got you babe

I'm looking forward to having my babe in all those capacities when he returns from his travels!

Trust in Me

This lovely song came on at the end of one of the episodes of Mad Men that I watched last night:

Trust in me in all you do
Have the faith I have in you
Love will see us through, if only you trust in me
Why don't you, you trust me?
Come to me when things go wrong
Cling to me daddy, woh yeah and I'll be strong
We can get along, we can get along, oh if only you trust in me
While there's a moon, a moon up high
While there are birds, birds to fly
While there is you, a you and I, I can be sure that I love you....oh....
Stand beside me, stand beside me all the while
Come on daddy face the future, why don't you smile?
Trust in me, and I'll be worthy of you ....oh yeah, yeah
Why don't you trust in me in all you do?
Have the faith that I... I have in you
Oh And love will see us through, if only you trust in me Yeah...Yeah Yeah
Why don't you come to me, when things go wrong, cling to me and woh, And I'll be strong
We can get along, we can get along oh, if only you trust in me.....

And I felt this surge of warm feelings, feelings that have accumulated from all the good times I've had with my man of late. He left on a trip yesterday, and while a part of me was sad not to be joining him, I mostly felt happy for him that he'd get to see both a good friend and his beloved mountains.

Over the last few days, I've found myself talking frequently about how solidly I've felt recently about my relationship, and how much easier it has been lately to trust my heart and have faith that even if in some ways we're in different places at the moment, it feels right and it'll all work out in the end.

Funny then, and I don't mean funny ha ha, that I could come as unglued as I did last night over two little technology-driven let-downs, neither of which, I'm quite sure, were intended to hurt me, but they must've somehow pushed some long-unpushed but fully loaded buttons.

You see, I'd texted my boyfriend to inquire if he'd gotten there ok, and I hadn't heard back. No biggie, right? He's probably busy chatting with his friend, I told myself. And I'm sure that's exactly what he was doing. By itself, that unanswered text would've felt like no big deal. But before I went to sleep, I got on Facebook to download a photo, and the first thing that popped up was something my boyfriend had posted an hour before -- a photo of the sign on some library shelves that said the words Marriage and Slavery and the relevant dewey decimal numbers, and some comment like "must be a coincidence." Relatively innocuous, right?

Maybe. But it didn't feel that way to me. Having survived one marriage going south, I dream of doing it again and fully enjoying it this time around. Relishing it, even. And to do that, I'm going to need my partner to want that too... Not today, but eventually.

In the meantime, I'm going to do what I can do, which is both be in my relationship and be an observer of the extent to which the trust I feel, in myself, in him, in us, can vary from one moment to the next. Doing so can help remind me, in a moment when I feel less trust, that if I just hold on long enough, the place of greater trust will come back around again...

Release Me

Yes my friends, we're on one of them rolls at the moment, where a theme runs through numerous blog posts. Sometimes it takes more than one song and one day to give full expression to what I'm feeling, and this is one of those times.

So, in keeping with the theme, I woke up this morning with this song running through my head:

How many times have I tried to turn this love around?
I don't want to give up
But baby it's time I had two feet on the ground
Can you release me
Can you release me

I'd had a conversation with a friend earlier in the week about finally being ready to release the pain of the past, to stop, once and for all, engaging in this kind of thinking:

Now that you're gone I can't help myself from wondering
Oh, if you'd have come down from your high
Would we've been all right?

And instead, ask to be released:

Release me
Can you release me

Which, in my humble opinion, few have done as beautifully as Wilson Phillips does with these lyrics:

Come on baby, come on baby
You knew it was time to just let go
'Cause we want to be free
But somehow it's just not that easy

Come on Darlin', hear me Darlin'
'Cause you're a waste of time for me
I'm trying to make you see
That baby you've just got to release me

Release me
Release me

I'm not going back to you anymore
Finally my weakened heart is healing though very slow
So stop coming around my door
'Cause you're not gonna find
What you're looking for

They said it. Most of it. But they did miss one vital piece of the process, because it's not just about asking to be released or trying to convince or declare one's desire to be released.

It's also about releasing yourself, really letting go of all the old thinking and feelings that can hold one back years after a break-up. And that means replacing the old thoughts with new beliefs, which, for me, include my right to be guided by my heart and speak my truth with love. And when my truth isn't what the other person wants to hear, and sometimes it won't be, I needn't doubt that it is true for me, and I needn't wait for the other person to accept or validate my decision.

In some cases, I may just have to accept that that time won't ever come. I didn't feel capable of that acceptance for what feels like a long, long time.

But now I do.

Harden my Heart

The refrain to this song was in my head this morning when I woke up:

I'm gonna harden my heart
I'm gonna swallow my tears
I'm gonna turn...and...leave you here.....

Mostly because last night I'd felt the temptation to harden my heart after it had been busted open earlier in the day by a tearful conversation with someone who was once close to me. The conversation left me feeling some of these lyrics:

All of my life I've been waitin' in the rain
I've been waiting for a feeling...that never, ever came
It feels so close, but always disappears....
Darlin', in your wildest dreams, you never had a clue...
But it's time you got the news......oooo....

Yes, that time has indeed come. But in terms of why this song is in my head the morning after said conversation, my theory is that whenever the past love stuff gets stirred up, my boyfriend and I struggle a bit with ourselves and each other. and sometimes that results in less tenderness than we'd use with each other under other circumstances. A bit of hardness, even:

I'm gonna harden my heart
I'm gonna swallow my tears
I'm gonna harden my heart
I'm gonna swallow my tears
Harden my heart...harden my heart...
Swallow my tears
I'm gonna harden my heart....

It's true. I may harden my heart a bit from time to time, but I'm pretty good at catching myself and opening it back up again. It helps, I reckon, that I'm not one to swallow my tears. And I am determined to do all that is within my power to love differently this time around, with more generosity, more compassion, and more understanding, for myself and for my partner.

Take that, Quarterflash!

Sorry

As I've written about before, from time to time on this journey I call upon various professionals to help me move through whatever it is I've got going on -- whether it is physical, emotional or both. I recently went to see David Laden, and one of the things he said really stuck out for me:

"Parenting is one act of self-forgiveness after the other."

It was what I needed to hear, coming on the heels as it did of having yelled at my kids in a way that I remember being yelled at as a kid and pledged never to do as an adult. Parts of this song fit my feelings at the time, particularly before I began the process of forgiving myself:

I'm sorry I'm bad, I'm sorry you're blue, I'm sorry about all the things I said to you
And I know I can't take it back

Lucky for me, and for all parents, children are very forgiving. Upset about it afterward, I apologized to my kids explaining that I had grown up with a mother who behaved that way frequently and I did not want to be that kind of parent.

"You're not that kind of parent!" they insisted.

But it has taken me a lot longer to forgive myself:

This time I think I'm to blame it's harder to get through the days
You get older and blame turns to shame

Yesterday I read something about hanging onto pain that resonated, and I set the intention to let it go. This morning when I woke up, my feet hurt, so I asked my boyfriend to rub them. When he did, I started to cry, likely releasing some of that pain.

At least I hope so. I haven't been sleeping well, lately, either, and it sure would be nice to turn that around:

Every single day I think about how we came all this way

The sleepless nights and the tears you cried it's never too late to make it right
Oh yeah sorry!

I've also been working with the Hawaiian prayer for forgiveness, which I've seen written two ways:

I'm sorry

Please forgive me

I love you (I forgive you)

Thank you

It seems helpful, and I just use the "I love you" form for those closest to me and the "I forgive you" form with those for whom it may be harder to feel the love but who are just as important to forgive...

For Good

I've been struggling lately with feelings of loss, in particular, loss of a friendship that has been an important one over the last few years. I hadn't really let go, hadn't really heard the messages that came from her indicating that she no longer wanted to be in each other's lives in the same way.

I get these daily emails called Daily Om, and last week the subject of one of them was being afraid of the truth. The example given was not being willing to hear it when someone close to you is pushing you away. Reading the message, I knew it was true, and recalled how I'd recently tried to get in touch for her birthday to the same outcome: polite disengagement.

I brought this up to another friend, and she recommended listening to this song from Wicked about how friendships change us:

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good

My friend reminded me that just as I was led to this person who is now fading out of my life, I'll be led to others who are just right for this moment in my life, and I for theirs. Reading the lyrics, I was more able to focus on the fact that whatever its present status, I was changed for the good by this friendship.

It's easy to blame ourselves when things don't work out, but the best we can do is try to make sure we've done what we can by asking forgiveness, practicing forgiveness, and then letting go when the time comes to let go.

I'm grateful that this very Glinda-like person was in my life for as long as she was, and I'm also very grateful for the friend that helped me through this loss, a friend I've now known for 22 years and we're still learning and growing together...

I Wanna Rock

As a follow-up to yesterday's post, in the car ride on the way home from Milwaukee, we heard a song that my boyfriend uniequivocally embraces and I only tolerate:

I wanna rock! (Rock)
I wanna rock! (Rock)
I want to rock (Rock)
I wanna rock! (Rock)

Turn it down you say,
Well all I got to say to you is time again I say, "No!"
No! No, No, No, No, No!
Tell me not to play
Well, all I got to say to you when you tell me not to play,
I say, "No!"
No! No, No, No, No, No!
So, if you ask me why I like the way I play it
There's only one thing I can say to you

I wanna rock! (Rock)
I wanna rock! (Rock)
I want to rock (Rock)
I wanna rock! (Rock)

There's a feelin' that
I get from nothin' else and there ain't nothin' in the world
That makes me go!
Go! Go, go, go, go, go!
Turn the power up
I've waited for so long so I could hear my favorite song so,
Let's go!
Go! Go, go, go, go, go!
When it's like this I feel the music shootin' through me
There's nothin' else that I would rather do

I wanna rock! (Rock)
I wanna rock! (Rock)
I want to rock (Rock)
I wanna rock! (Rock)

But I gotta admit, watching him pump his fist to the refrain with a big grin on his face made me like the song a little bit more...

Sister Christian

Here we are mid-ride on a PBJ break

My boyfriend and I hopped in the car on Saturday bound for Milwaukee. Having heard that there were some pretty sweet mountain bike trails right through the city along the river, we thought we'd check those out and then follow up our ride with dinner out somewhere other than one of our usual Madison spots. (We ended up at Centro Cafe where we had a delicious meal outside on a beautiful evening.)

On the way to Milwaukee, this classic tune came on the radio:

Sister Christian

Oh the time has come

And you know that you're the only one

To say O.K.

Where you going

What you looking for

You know those boys

Don't want to play no more with you

It's true

You're motoring

What's your price for flight

In finding mister right

You'll be alright tonight

Babe you know

You're growing up so fast

And mama's worrying

That you won't last

To say let's play

Sister Christian

There's so much in life Don't you give it up

Before your time is due

It's true

It's true yeah

Motoring

What's your price for flight

You've got him in your sight

And driving thru the night

Motoring...

Yep, we were motoring, and we were both belting out this song, and, well, I got a little teary. You see, one of my wishes was for a man who shared the same music I did, and I felt super grateful in that moment that I'd found him. Yes, super grateful even though when I explained what I was feeling, his response was:

"I hate this song!"

Uh-huh. Hate it in the way that you love singing along to it, that is...  Ok, so it maybe wasn't quite the moment I thought it was, but we do, in fact, share the same music, and even like a lot of the same music, even if we won't always admit it...

Break My Stride

My Netflix queue is a strange and wonderful place. It's strange because sometimes movies end up in the queue that I don't remember ever placing there -- and it's wonderful because more often than not, when they show up in my mailbox, they are worth watching whether I remember wanting to see them or not.

Cedar Rapids was no exception. Super cute movie -- funny, poignant, some racy scenes -- and it had this gem in the soundtrack:

Last night I had the strangest dream
I sailed away to China
In a little row boat to find ya
And you said you had to get your laundry cleaned
Didn't want no-one to hold you
What does that mean
And you said

Ain't nothin' gonna to break my stride
Nobody's gonna slow me down, oh-no
I got to keep on movin'
Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride
I'm running and I won't touch ground
Oh-no, I got to keep on movin'

You're on a roll and now you pray it lasts
The road behind was rocky
But now you're feeling cocky
You look at me and you see your past
Is that the reason why you're runnin' so fast
And she said

Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride
Nobody's gonna slow me down, oh-no
I got to keep on moving
Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride
I'm running and I won't touch ground
Oh-no, I got to keep on moving

Which was a pretty fun blast from the past. The video linked above has comedians talking about the song, which is pretty funny. But my favorite moment came while my boyfriend and I were watching a scene in Cedar Rapids where the main character was trying to decide whether to go home with with a hooker he'd befriended or a fellow insurance agent of the female, redheaded persuasion.

"Trust me, you should go with the redheaded MILF!"

Awwwww...

Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)

The other day at the gym, some dudes were complaining about Journey being played in multiple classes in a row. I listened in disbelief: how could they not love this band? Unlike my fitness friends, when this number came up during one of our workouts, I found myself singing along and moving to the music:

Here we stand
Worlds apart, hearts broken in two (two, two)
Sleepless nights
Losing ground
I'm reaching for you (you, you)

I especially dig those repeats! But I digress, back to you, you master of the mullet, Steve Perry:

Someday love will find you
Break those chains that bind you
One night will remind you
How we touched
And went our separate ways
If he ever hurts you
True love won't desert you
You know I still love you
Though we touched
And went our separate ways

Aside from sheer listening pleasure, this song has been kicking around in my mind during a couple of recent episodes in my relationship. Though the song is not about jealousy per se, it does remind us of the fact that we've all loved before, sometimes it's a marriage and sometimes it's a fleeting affair, but all of these contacts of the heart change us, I believe mostly for the good. I believe that, about both my own past loves and my lover's, but depending on how firmly rooted I am in myself in a given moment, it can be hard to feel that belief. I also believe that the amount of love we have to give is not finite, and therefore having loved someone else, or even still loving someone else, doesn't take away from our present ability to love, but it can be hard sometimes to remember that when jealousy washes over us:

Troubled times

Caught between confusion and pain (pain, pain)

Distant eyes

Promises we make were in vain (in vain, vain)

Case in point: coming back from our magical weekend in the U.P., my boyfriend and I were sitting outside at a lovely waterfront pub having a late lunch. I was telling him that I was sad that I would never get to meet his Mom (she passed away). He immediately started talking about how much his first serious girlfriend had loved his Mom, and about things his first wife had appreciated about her. For him, these were positive memories, happy associations with cherised loved ones. When I started to cry and said that it was hard for me to hear that, he bristled at having to edit himself.

Neither of our feelings were wrong, it's just an example of a time when it is difficult to really feel what you know to be true in the best part of yourself: there's enough love to go around, and around and around. It might also be an example of when it would have been beneficial for him to first attend to the feelings I had just expressed and then express his, but that's easier to see in retrospect than it is to do in the moment. I know, I've been the one not properly attending to my partner's feelings -- in fact, I think i was guilty of that this morning.

The other example was a moment of jealousy my boyfriend had when I was talking about a man with whom I had a very short, passionate post-marital affair that really changed me. I've written about him before -- my friends and I refer to him as Jesus. (One of the blog posts about him is aptly titled Hey Jealousy.) He's the one that was so gentle with me, telling me that my eyes were sad, and allowing me to connect to something beautiful (him and the image of him on his beloved windsurf board) - - a beacon to help show the way through the pain I was feeling. We didn't keep in touch -- I don't even know his last name -- and I don't need to know it. He was just the Universe's way of reminding me of a truth when I was so separated from it; there are good men out there and I'm worthy of their love:

If you must go, I wish you love
You'll never walk alone
Take care my love
Miss you love

And now I've found a good man to love and to let love me. Some days that's more challenging from one end, some days from the other. While it's true that the road that my boyfriend and I are currently walking is not without its bumps, I'm grateful not to be walking alone, and I have a keen understanding that the bumps would be bigger, the uphills steeper, and the swooping downhills much less frequent than they are when we are walking (or riding) together...

The Yellow Rose of Texas

My boyfriend gave me yellow roses for our anniversary, telling me that they seem to fit me best because he sees me as a cowgirl at heart. Love that about him, that he brings out my wild and adventurous side -- and I see myself the same way.

Ever since then, this song keeps coming up on the internal ipod. I remember my Mom singing this song when I was a little girl, and hearing it again now...

She's the sweetest little rosebud that Texas ever knew
Her eyes are bright as diamonds they sparkle like the dew
You may talk about your Clementine and sing of Rosa Lee
But the yellow rose of Texas is the only girl for me

I couldn't be happier to be the only girl for my man!

I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch)

After I put my kids in bed tonight, I went downstairs to put in a load of laundry. Climbing the stairs after I started the machine, I heard this song coming from within:

Sugarpie honeybunch
You know that I love you
I can't help myself
I love you and nobody else
In and out my life
You come and you go
Leaving just your picture behind
And I kissed it a thousand times

Looking at the lyrics now, I see that it isn't a perfect fit for how I'm feeling tonight, but it comes pretty damn close. Thankfully, my boyfriend's comings and goings are based on him trying to establish a home for himself at his new place and his desire to get the things he needs to be happy that I can't give him, never him actually leaving me.

It's a good thing, too, because like The Four Tops, I'm hooked:

When you snap your fingers
Or wink your eye
I come a running to you
I'm tied to you, baby
And there's nothing I can do
Ooh, sugar

When I call your name (girl)
It starts the flame burning in my heart
Tearin' it all apart
No matter how I try
My love I cannot hide

Sugarpie honeybunch
You now that I'm weak for you
I can't help myself
I love you and nobody else

Sugarpie honeybunch
I'll do anything you ask me to
I can't help myself
I want you and nobody else

Sugarpie honeybunch
You know that I love you
I can't help myself

And I don't want to!

Perfect Blue Buildings

It's hard to believe it's August already. I get a little sick of people saying that, but I have to admit that it is pretty astounding how quickly summer slips away.

It has been a good summer, overall, and the last couple of days I've had some alone time with my daughter, which has been really great. She helped my boyfriend and I celebrate two years to the day we met with a fun summer evening of riding bikes to a favorite local restaurant.

She even took this photo of the happy couple post margarita --
methinks my man wears the tequila better than I do!

The next day, which was yesterday, I heard these lyrics as I pedaled into work:

Said how am I gonna keep myself away?

How am I gonna keep myself away from me?

Keep myself away...

How am I gonna keep myself away from me?

Keep myself away...

How am I gonna keep myself away from me?

Which for me, really isn't the question at all. It's more a question of how I'm going to stay connected to myself. After years and years of practice, I'm really, really good at this part:

Gonna get me a little oblivion, baby,

And try to keep myself away from me.

But not as good at staying connected. I had a private yoga session with my teacher a couple of weeks ago, and he outlined a home practice for me. I know it is what I need to be doing, and in some sense I want to do what I need to be doing, but I just can't seem to show up for my practices. Even when I do the whole sequence, which isn't often, it feels like checking tasks off a list rather than really tuning in to myself: my body, my mind, my spirit. Why is that? Am I so afraid of what I'll find there? 

I've spent a fair amount of time reveling in my reclaimed love lately -- spent a really great weekend away together that I'll blog about soon -- but even that seems to be, at least in part, a way to check out of what is going on inside me -- and I haven't been willing to do the hard work of integrating my own needs with his needs and the needs of our relationship to the extent that I probably need to in order to stay connected to myself:

You got an attitude of everything I ever wanted.
I got an attitude of need.
So, help me stay awake, I'm fallin'...

Nope, it's nobody's job to help me stay awake -- that's up to me. What'll it be, SJ, at 6:30 am on this Thursday? Back to sleep or showing up for your practice for real this time?