Auld Lang Syne

Cabin play on the frozen lake with cousins

We spent New Year's Eve up at the cabin with my parents and my sister's family. Although it was a really cold day, the kids managed to get outside to play, and so did my sister and I.

We also played games and watched a movie inside -- Parental Guidance -- featuring Billy Crystal. My favorite movie of his is of course, When Harry Met Sally, which has one of my favorite New Years scenes ever -- one that I believe I linked in a post not too long ago about the moment when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone.

I'm hear to tell you, kids, in case you haven't already learned it through your own experience, that sometimes even when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, and you tell them so, you may not actually get to spend your life with that person.

Yep, it's a big, huge drag, but you do your best not to let it drag you down, because you've got two great kids and a whole lotta love to give to some lucky man who wants to spend his life with you too. And you'll find him. Or he'll find you. Maybe even in 2015.

And this, my friends, is the circuitous path by which I arrived at the song to mark this day, a song also featured in WHMS:

Should old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot
And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne, for auld lang syne

Yep, that's right. The link I provided is to a Mariah Carey cover. What can I say? She has a beautiful voice...

Iridescent

Here we are before the sadness and frustration set in...

Not all ski adventures are created equal. Sometimes there are factors beyond your control that work against you. You know, like a certain child who, in four degree weather, insists on stopping while we're cross country skiing the beginner loop at Rib Lake, because "it's boring."

Adrenaline seek much, kid?

It's true. The Rib Lake trails are not Granite Peak. But they're GORGEOUS. My son calls it the Enchanted Forest. And it is.

It just felt haunted on this particular day by a child that I couldn't possibly leave behind for fear she would freeze, and another child who was frustrated, rightfully so, with his sister for ruining something he'd been looking forward to doing with his Mom.

Yep, it was rough and iridescent at the same time, just like this number:

When you were standing in the wake of devastation
When you were waiting on the edge of the unknown

My kids feeling cold and lost in desperation

And with the cataclysm raining down
Insides crying, "Save me now!"
You were there, impossibly alone

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure’s all you’ve known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go

I tried, I really did. And I managed to remain a loving parent, even when I got extremely frustrated:

And in a burst of light that blinded every angel
As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars
You felt the gravity of tempered grace
Falling into empty space
No one there to catch you in their arms

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure’s all you’ve known
Remember all the sadness and frustration
And let it go. Let it go

Let it go
Let it go
Let it go
Let it go

It wasn't easy, but I managed. No sense hanging onto it, after all...

Riders on the Storm

My kids and I hit Granite Peak Ski Area today and had a great time, despite the bitter cold.

That's right, because we were channeling our inner Jim Morrisons:

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm

There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin' like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If you give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah

Girl, you gotta love your man
Girl, you gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Gotta love your man, yeah

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan.
Riders on the storm

Yep, that's us!

Christmas Vacation

Archico Family Christmas

My kids came back from their Dad's house at noon today, buzzing with Christmas spirit. We had such a great day -- starting with opening presents -- then on to a softball game (not your usual Christmas day activity for Wisconsites) -- and finishing off with an annual viewing of this classic:

It's that time, Christmas time is here
Everybody knows, there's not a better time of year
Hear that sleigh, Santa's on his way
Hip, hip hooray, for Christmas vacation

Gotta a ton of stuff to celebrate
(Jing-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-ling)
Now it's getting closer, I can't wait
(Jang-a-lang-a-lang-a-lang-lang)
Gonna make this holiday as perfect as can be
Just wait and see this Christmas vacation

This old house, sure is looking good
Got ourselves the finest snowman in the neighborhood
Ain't it fun, always on the run
That's how it's done on Christmas vacation

Let's all deck the halls and light the lights
(Jing-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-ling)
Get a toasty fire buring bright
(Jang-a-lang-a-lang-a-lang-lang)
Give St. Nick the warmest welcome that he's every had
We're so glad it Christmas vacation

Yes we are. Don't get us wrong, we'd like to have some snow, but in the meantime, we'll make use of the presents that Santa gave us and then curl up with a cult classic:

And when the nights are peaceful and serene
We can cuddle up and do our Christmas dreaming

Jing-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-ling
Jang-a-lang-a-lang-a-lang-lang

Christmas vacation
Christmas vacation

We're so glad it's Christmas vacation

Peace and joy and love are everywhere
(Jing-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-ling)
You can feel the magic in the air
(Jang-a-lang-a-lang-a-lang-lang)
Let the spirit of the season carry us away
Hip, hip, hooray for Christmas Vacation

Unchain My Heart

Although this isn't his original song, it's the one that feels most fitting to mark this day, the day that Joe Cocker died. Because he positively nailed this cover, but also because today was the day that I stopped my yoga practice halfway through, aware that the stiffness in my back, behind my heart, needed some attention.

So I got into a restorative, heart-opening posture, and I asked whoever or whatever might be listening for something a lot like the lyrics to this song:

Unchain my heart
Baby let me be
'Cause you don't care
Let me
Set me free

Unchain my heart
Baby let me go
Unchain my heart
'Cause you don't love me no more
Every time I call you on the phone
Some fella tells me that you're not at home
Unchain my heart
Set me free

Unchain my heart
Baby let me be
Unchain my heart
'Cause you don't care about me
You've got me sowed up like a mellow case
But you let my love go to waste
Unchain my heart
Set me free

I'm under your spell
Like a man in a trance baby
Oh but you're no doubt aware
That I don't stand a chance
Unchain my heart
Let me me go my way
Unchain my heart
You are in me night and day
Why leave me to a life of misery
When you don't care about the beans for me
Unchain my heart oh please
Set me free
Alright
I'm under your spell
Just like a man in a trance oh baby
But you're no doubt aware
That I don't stand a chance
Please unchain my heart
Let me go my way

And slowly, as I laid there, I could feel it happening. The release. I've been holding on so tight for so long and it's time to let it go...

Try

I had a lovely evening tonight at a friend's house -- she ordered us some food, and then after her babe went to bed, we watched a movie, Philomena. It was an excellent flick -- not an easy watch -- but ultimately the story of a woman with a profound faith in humankind, even those humans who have been anything but kind to her.

On the way home, I heard this song on the radio:

You don't have to try so hard
You don't have to give it all away
You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up
You don't have to change a single thing

You don't have to try, try, try, try
You don't have to try, try, try, try
You don't have to try, try, try, try
You don't have to try
You don't have to try

Oh

And I think I'm gonna adopt it as my theme song. The main feeling I have in my life right now is one of bewilderment. I don't get it. I don't see the grand plan. But I do know this in a way I never have before:

You don't have to try so hard
You don't have to give it all away
You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up
You don't have to change a single thing

And man, is it ever a huge relief:

You don't have to try so hard
You don't have to bend until you break
You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up
You don't have to change a single thing

You don't have to try, try, try, try
You don't have to try, try, try, try
You don't have to try, try, try, try
You don't have to try

No I don't. Not nearly as hard as I've been trying...

Any Other World

Tonight in my trauma recovery group, I got to tell my story. The story of my abuse. The story of how I left my body all those years ago, and the story of how I came back. And somehow, just as the lyrics of today's song describe, it feels like everything has changed:

In any other world
You could tell the difference
And let it all unfurl
Into broken remnants

Smile like you mean it
And let yourself let go

Cos it's all in the hands of a bitter, bitter man
Say goodbye to the world you thought you lived in
Take a bow, play the part of a lonely lonely heart
Say goodbye to the world you thought you lived in
To the world you thought you lived in

I tried to live alone
But lonely is so lonely, alone
So human as I am
I had to give up my defenses

So I smiled and tried to mean it
To let myself let go

Cos it's all in the hands of a bitter, bitter man
Say goodbye to the world you thought you lived in
Take a bow, play the part of a lonely lonely heart
Say goodbye to the world you thought you lived in
To the world you thought you lived in

I'm ready to say goodbye to that world, and ready to live in one where my truth is not in the hands of a bitter, bitter man. It's in my hands, and the hands of a Universe with big love for me...

Madness

I love, love, love it when just the right song comes to me to mark the day, and today is one of those days:

I, I can't get these memories out of my mind,
And some kind of madness has started to evolve.
(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma...)
And I, I tried so hard to let you go,
But some kind of madness is swallowing me whole, yeah
(Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma...)

Some kind of madness has swallowed me whole over these last, oh, I don't know, handful of years now, maybe? And that's the madness of being completely in love with someone who claims to be completely in love with me and then when I ask him to marry me or move in he says no thanks, I think I'll move back to where I came from. And that's really just the beginning of the madness. Then you have last Christmas, when he got back in touch and said he wanted to get back together and move back to Wisconsin. So what's my response? I buy him a plane ticket to visit for his birthday, he comes, we all love seeing him, and then shortly afterward, he becomes less available again, until eventually, we agree to break up, because it's not working for either one of us. But by that point, I've already bought plane tickets for the three of us to visit him in August, you know, because my kids have been counting on having this East Coast adventure with this man, whom they love, whom they thought was going to be their Stepdad. So we go, and not surprisingly, I'm still just as crazy about him as I ever was, even though, while we were broken up, turns out he slept with someone else, and that hurts. When we leave, I suggest we no longer be in contact, but then I don't stick to that, because I just find my feelings for him so confusing and confounding. I start this deep healing work, and he's the one I want to talk to about it, because he's so totally awesome about all of it. He always has been, since the beginning, and he helped me work through major residual trauma from the abuse I suffered in my childhood. So I do call him, and he's there for me, and each time that happens my heart leaps up and says: "Yay! He is your person. He wants to be your person. You weren't wrong about him. You are going to get to be with him again. Of course you are! How could it happen any other way? You've worked so hard and waited so long and the two of you are so good together in so many ways -- how could it be otherwise?" And then the same thing happens that has always happened with us: he becomes less available, I say I need more, he says he can't give me more, rinse, repeat. So I decide we can't talk anymore and so we don't but I still find a way to restart the cycle over -- this time by texting him about the vision that I have during a big crying jag last weekend. The vision is basically making it clear to me that he's just not choosing to take the plunge with me so I point that out to him, as if, I don't know, if he realizes that he'll suddenly decide to take the plunge? Nope. He barely answers, says he'll get to it later, but then doesn't, so I ask him about it in a few days, and he says he can't take the plunge until he knows he can stand strongly on his own two feet. Do I take the hint now? I do not. This tenaciousness that I've got going for me, it serves me very well in some settings, but not so well in others. The length of this paragraph is proof of that. Anyway, I try again to say come back to me, I love you, work on your stuff here, work on it with me, don't turn your back on our love, please. And then FINALLY, he answers with enough clarity that:

I have finally seen the light,
And I have finally realized
What you mean.

He tells me he's doing what he can, but working his way back to us isn't that.

Ouch.

Oh, and he also said he loved me.

The parentheses in the next verse were there, with the exception of the ones I added to the last two lines:

But now I have finally seen the end (finally seen the end)
And I'm not expecting you to care (expecting you to care)
But I have finally seen the light (finally seen the light)
I have finally realized (realized)
I need (something more than) your love
I need (something much more than) your love...

And as difficult as that realization is, the clarity of his statement is a gift. As my therapist would say, it leaves me with a choice: Do I want to continue to pine after a man who isn't working his way back to us?

I do not.

That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should Be

But Arch is already in Madison -- see the legs?

The weather has been really weird. Foggy. Wet. Kinda warm, but not super warm. After I dropped off the kids at their Dad's this afternoon, I went for a run in the Arboretum. As I had done in DC, I decided to run on trails, even though they were pretty messy.

It felt good to be in the woods. It always does. I was listening to a weird station on Slacker -- I'm not even sure what it was -- but songs that I'd never heard kept coming on, like this one:

But you say it's time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me -
Well, that's the way I've always heard it should be:
You want to marry me, we'll marry.

I wasn't sure who was singing it, but I'm not surprised it's Carly Simon. And it got me thinking. Thinking about how for some of us, it just doesn't go the way we've always heard it should. Some of us don't enter adulthood with enough of ourselves intact to have our first marital selection be a great fit -- someone we can love deeply, someone we can continue to grow with over the years.

And although I've had a lot of trouble accepting it, it seems that sometimes, when those of us in this category do meet and fall in love with someone we want to move in with, raise a family with, sometimes we don't even get to have it that time around.

It doesn't make any sense to me, none at all, to find a love like the one the New Englander and I found, and then choose something other than to partner on these trips around the Sun that we've got left -- but today as I ran I realized that there are lots of things about this world that I find senseless. People who want to have babies being unable to conceive and children dying being a couple of examples, but the fact that I find them senseless doesn't stop them from happening. Same thing is true of my situation. It's happening. Might as well accept it.

And although I'm sad, I'm also grateful. I'm grateful that I'm not living a life like the one Carly sings about here:

My friends from college they're all married now;
They have their houses and their lawns.
They have their silent noons,
Tearful nights, angry dawns.
Their children hate them for the things they're not;
They hate themselves for what they are-
And yet they drink, they laugh,
Close the wound, hide the scar.

Nope. I'm not hiding the scars. I'm allowing my heart to break open into new life, and I'm trusting that all the work I've done to liberate myself means there'll be no drowning in love's debris for me:

You say we can keep our love alive
Babe - all I know is what I see -
The couples cling and claw
And drown in love's debris.
You say we'll soar like two birds through the clouds,
But soon you'll cage me on your shelf -
I'll never learn to be just me first
By myself.

And I know that I will never cage the man (men) I love on my shelf -- even if it means losing him (them) for good...

Turn the Page

I heard this song driving home from the airport this evening:

On a long and lonesome highway, east of Omaha
You can listen to the engines
moanin' Out its one note song
You can think about the woman or the girl
You knew the night before

But your thoughts will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you're ridin' sixteen hours
And there's nothin' much to do
And you don't feel much like riding
You just wish the trip was through

And here's the thing. My trip was through. I was back in Madison after my three days in DC, but part of me didn't feel home. Part of me felt like I was returning somewhere where something, and someone, are missing. Not a good feeling:

Here I am, On the road again
There I am, Up on the stage
There I go, Playin' star again
There I go, Turn the page

Perhaps it is time, as my friend suggested, to turn the page. Reluctantly.

Just for the record: It's the Metallica version I heard on the radio, and the one I hear in my head -- but this song was originally Bob Seger's...

With A Little Help From My Friends

A windy selfie that captures these happy friends

The last couple of times I've been to DC, I haven't managed to get together with my friend from Madison who moved there a few years ago, but this time, we made it work.

We met for dinner tonight, and it was so nice to see him. We like to talk to each other about a range of things, but our too main topics are probably politics and love/sex, so he was anxious to get caught up on what was going on in my life.

He didn't love where I am at the moment, and suggested I get back into online dating, of which he is a veteran. I bristled, he persisted. He made some good points, and said what so many other people have said to me when I say "But I don't want to date anyone else" -- that this is a fake it 'til you make it situation. Maybe it is. I don't know.

But I do know that it was wonderful to spend a couple of hours with my friend, and it lifted my spirits mightily, not to mention getting this number fired up on the internal jukebox:

What would you think if I sang out of tune
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm I get high with a little help from my friends
Mm going to try with a little help from my friends

What do I do when my love is away?
(Does it worry you to be alone?)
How do I feel by the end of the day?
(Are you sad because you're on your own?)
No I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm I get high with a little help from my friends
Mm going to try with a little help from my friends

(Do you need anybody?)
I need somebody to love
(Could it be anybody?)
I want somebody to love

Yes I do. And not just someone in theory, someone in the flesh:

(Would you believe in a love at first sight?)
Yes I'm certain that it happens all the time
(What do you see when you turn out the light?)
I can't tell you, but I know it's mine
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm I get high with a little help from my friends
Oh I'm going to try with a little help from my friends

Usually I have a clear favorite between the original, linked above, and a cover. This one's a toss-up: Joe Cocker really nails this song and kinda makes it his own...

Just The Way You Are

I'm reading an article in The New Yorker about Billy Joel. It's pretty interesting, talking about how he can still sell out Madison Square Garden for weeks at a time, and how he mostly plays the old favorites, including this song that gets the whole place weeping:

Don't go changing to try and please me
You never let me down before
Don't imagine you're too familiar
And I don't see you anymore

I would not leave you in times of trouble
We never could have come this far
I took the good times, I'll take the bad times
I take you just the way you are

And after he plays it, he says to the audience: "I wrote this for my first wife. And then we got divorced!" I don't know much about their marriage, but it does seem tough to swallow. I also know that in my first marriage, I didn't love myself enough to believe that someone else could love me just the way I am. I enjoyed the feeling of being loved enough to want to be around it, but I couldn't really accept it it, and I couldn't return it, either.

I definitely tried to change him:

​Don't go trying some new fashion
​Don't change the color of your hair
​You always have my unspoken passion
​Though I might not seem to care

I also don't think we were a good match. We didn't have unspoken or spoken passion, not really, and now that I've experienced that for reals, I would say that it's essential to really loving someone. Not to mention just plain awesome. One of the things that is hard for me about my situation now is I just really can't fathom choosing not to be in the midst of that passion on a daily basis. I often hear the New Englander's voice in my head (nope, it's not just music, I hear voices too), saying, as he sometimes did: "Why wouldn't ya?"

Which is an important question, but it isn't mine to answer. And if there is one thing I've learned about loving someone just the way they are, it's that doing so sometimes, inconveniently, means not getting what you want from them. But it's such a gift to love that way. I've known this for years because of my children, and I'm so grateful that I now know it is possible in other areas of life too.

Possible, but not easy. Because when the heart feels like this about someone:
​
​I don't want clever conversation
I never want to work that hard
I just want someone that I can talk to
I want you just the way you are

I think it's natural to want to seal the deal:

I need to know that you will always be
The same old someone that I knew
Ah, what will it take till you believe in me?
The way that I believe in you?

I said I love you and that's forever
And this I promise from the heart
But I couldn't love you any better
I love you just the way you are

Of course, sometimes, as Billy pointed out in his own example, sealing the deal doesn't ultimately mean spending your life together anyway.

So I guess all we can do, or at least, all I can do, is choose to love this way, and accept what happens as part of my path...

​Oh... Yeah....

Flying Dream 143

I mentioned a couple of days ago that the book I'm reading talks about dialoging with your dreams. The author encourages her readers to ask a question before falling asleep so that they may dream the answer.

I tried it last night, asking: "What do I most need to know about my future?"

I dreamt of a softball game. I hit the ball, hard, and took off for first base. And there I stayed. I could've made it to second on the hit alone. I then got another chance when the ball was misthrown on its way back to the pitcher: I stayed on first. The next batter hit the ball, and starting running to claim his position on first, but I didn't budge, so that batter was tagged out. Now that's a pretty telling dream, isn't it? I reckon it means I'm playing it too safe. I need to venture off the base. Ok. I can dig it. It helps me have some direction.

The author also talks about dreams of flying. I never have these dreams, but I hope someday I will, because she says that dreaming that you are flying means you feel capable of anything.

If I were to have such a dream, I have to admit that it would be lovely if it took me to my lover's side, as it happened in this song:

Flying dream 143
I stretched out my arms
And my feet left the floor
And how all fifteen (ahem) stone flew to you
I don't know

Changes

I went to the gym today, not just to teach yoga, which I love doing, but also to hit the treadmill. Reluctantly. I don't know what's going on with me this year, but I just don't feel like riding my bike in the bitter cold. I don't feel much like running in it, either, but I do feel like eating, so I can't really afford to give up exercising.

As I was winding down my miles on the treadmill, this song came over the speakers at the gym:

I feel unhappy
I feel so sad
I've lost the best friend
That I ever had
He was my dad
I loved him so
But it's too late now
I let him go
I'm going through changes
I'm going through changes

I love this song. I love how young Ozzy is, and I love how it reminds me of my love of Ozzy. That's right my friends, I had an Ozzy poster as a freshman in the dorms at UW-Madison. I only wish I had a photo to prove it.

This song also reminds me of my days in another dorm, my junior year, in England. I had a very good friend that year who was a huge fan of rockers like Ozzy and David Lee Roth, and he indulged my love of their softer side. I came to find out this indulgence was due to his crush on me -- which I didn't learn about until I had already gotten off with one of his mates from school. At that point in my life, I just wasn't able to pick up on subtlety, though part of me wished I had when I heard this song blaring from my friend's room in the middle of the day in our dormitory:

We shared each day
In love together
We found a way
But soon the world
Had its evil way
My heart was blinded
Love went astray
I'm going through changes
I'm going through changes
It took so long
To realize
That I can still hear
his last goodbye
Now all my days
Are filled with tears
Wish I could go back
And change those years
I'm going through changes
I'm going through changes

Oh well. I reckon we would have both done things differently if we could go back and change those years. He would have been more forthcoming about his affections, and I would have chosen my nice, attentive friend rather than his brooding, aloof mate. But we can't go back, we can only live and learn!

New Sensation

As I continue the process of recovering from Thanksgiving/coping with the cold but no snow weather/catching up on my sleep, my inner jukebox continues to pull out numbers from the past, including this song today:

Live baby live
Now that the day is over
I got a new sensation
In perfect moments
Impossible to refuse

I'm loving that it's validating all my napping:

Sleep baby sleep
Now that the night is over
And the sun comes like a god
Into our room
All perfect light and promises

Promising a new sensation:

Gotta hold on you
A new sensation
A new sensation
Right now
Gonna take you over
A new sensation
A new sensation

And making reference to another aspect of the book I'm reading, Emotional Freedom, which is about how our dreams and the information contained in them can help set us free:

Dream baby dream
Of all that's come and going
And you will find out
In the end
There really is
There really is no difference

But it was these lyrics that popped into my head this afternoon as I found myself coping with that feeling of being in kind of a funk but unable to get it out:

Cry baby cry
When you've got to get it out
I'll be your shoulder
You can tell me all
Don't keep it in ya
Well that's the reason why I'm here

Are you ready for a new sensation
A new sensation
Right now
Gonna take you on a new sensation
A new sensation

Yes I am, ready for that new sensation. Must be right around the corner, right?

You Get What You Give

This song popped into my head today. I'm not sure exactly what prompted it, but I like its message:

Wake up kids
We've got the dreamers disease
Age 14 we got you down on your knees
So polite, you're busy still saying please
Fri-enemies, who when you're down ain't your friend
Every night we smash their Mercedes-Benz
First we run and then we laugh till we cry
But when the night is falling
and you cannot find the light
If you feel your dream is dying
Hold tight
You've got the music in you

Yes I do -- have the music in me, that is. And that's a relief. As I attempt to sleep off this year's Thanksgiving -- and I don't mean the food -- I needed this pep talk from my inner ipod:

Don't let go
You've got the music in you
One dance left
This world is gonna pull through
Don't give up
You've got a reason to live
Can't forget you only get what you give

I know that's true, and I know that I give the best sort of love to my children, friends and lovers -- the kind that respects who they are as individuals, the kind that is empathetic, playful, sensitive, considerate and without conditions -- and in many respects, that's what I get back.

It is also true that I'm still one man in my bed short of living my dream life, but I am choosing to trust the New Radicals when they say that somehow, someway, following my heart is all I really need to do:

This whole damn world can fall apart
You'll be ok follow your heart

The Sins of A Family

I'm listening to a book in the car called Emotional Freedom by Judith Orloff. It's a good one. I'm learning a lot. While listening recently she made reference to this song, which feels apropos today, my father's birthday:

She had a bad childhood
While she was very young
So don't judge her too badly
She had a schizophrenic mother
Who worked in the gutter
Would have sold herself
To the devil gladly
What a sad environment
A bugridden tenement
And when they couldn't pay the rent
It was 'cause her father was out
Getting sicker
Oh, the stone's been cast
And blood's thicker than water
And the sins of the family fall on the daughter
All the sins of the family fall on the daughter

Now my childhood had its challenges  -- not the same kind of challenges described in these lyrics -- and I think it's safe to say that the sins of the family fell on the daughter (or daughters -- but I won't speak for my sister).

But I'm happy to say that after nearly ten years of a concerted effort to heal from said childhood, I felt free to celebrate my father's birthday today, to celebrate him, and the father and grandfather that he is today. He's not perfect, but he's my Dad, and I'm a grown woman now. I don't feel the need to keep punishing him, especially now that I know doing so would also punish me and impede my ability to parent my children. No thanks!

Linger

This morning I organized a special Thanksgiving morning yoga practice with my fellow Ashtanga practitioners, which felt really great. A perfect start to the day.

From there I went to the gym, ran a 5K on the treadmill, and then headed home for a bath. I wanted to do everything I could to shore myself up for my family gathering.

On the drive home from the gym, this song came on the radio -- fitting not just because of the reason cited by the DJ -- it's Thanksgiving and the band is the Cranberries -- but because my friend and cousin's wife who I always especially miss at family gatherings LOVED this song:

If you, if you could return, don't let it burn, don't let it fade.

I'm sure I'm not being rude, but it's just your attitude,
It's tearing me apart, It's ruining everything.

I swore, I swore I would be true, and honey, so did you.
So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand?
Were you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?

But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

Oh, I thought the world of you.
I thought nothing could go wrong,
But I was wrong. I was wrong.
If you, if you could get by, trying not to lie,
Things wouldn't be so confused and I wouldn't feel so used,
But you always really knew, I just wanna be with you.

But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

I like this song too, but these days, I'm trying to put the onus on myself. Do I have to let it linger? I don't know. There's a big part of me that would rather not be in the position that I'm in. I'd rather feel just about anything other than as helpless as I feel at the moment. But I don't want to try to force myself to feel differently than I do. Besides, I have a feeling learning to be in the discomfort and uncertainty is the lesson.

Do we get to choose the finger we get wrapped around? Can we unwrap ourselves once it happens? I don't rightly know. As uncomfortable as it may be, I'm just going to have to try to be patient until an answer of some sort comes...

Grateful

In preparation for Thanksgiving with my extended family, I prioritized going to Alanon tonight -- even over being snuggled in my bed which was where I wanted to be with this freezing cold weather. As always, I was glad I did. Meetings always help put things in perspective for me -- both with my own healing journey and by seeing the plight of others -- much of which is worse than mine.

One person said that when he couldn't find anything in his own life to be grateful for, he thought of things he was glad hadn't happened to him, which reminded me of this Yiddish Proverb:

“If you cannot be grateful for what you have received, then be thankful for what you have been spared."

And so, on this eve of Thanksgiving, I am grateful for both what I have been spared and all the blessings of this life, many of which I have in common with my friend Art Garfunkel:

I've got a roof over my head
I've got a warm place to sleep
Some nights I lie awake counting gifts
Instead of counting sheep
I've got a heart that can hold love
I've got a mind that can think
There may be times when I lose the light
And let my spirits sink
But I can't stay depressed
When I remember how I'm blessed
Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed
And duly grateful
In a city of strangers
I got a family of friends
No matter what rocks and brambles fill the way
I know that they will stay until the end
I feel a hand holding my hand
It's not a hand you can see
But on the road to the promised land
This hand will shepherd me
Through delight and despair
Holding tight and always there
Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed
And duly grateful
It's not that I don't want a lot
Or hope for more, or dream of more
But giving thanks for what I've got
Makes me happier than keeping score
In a world that can bring pain
I will still take each chance
For I believe that whatever the terrain
Our feet can learn to dance
Whatever stone life may sling
We can moan or we can sing
Grateful, grateful
Truly grateful I am
Grateful, grateful
Truly blessed
And duly grateful
Truly blessed
And duly grateful.

Fire and Rain

Today I went to a "wellness day" at the place where I go for my trauma recovery group. It started with a breath practice for grief, which was difficult, but also useful, and my biggest takeaway from that is that I can let whatever is causing the grief -- in my case being separated from my love -- into my heart. I don't have to push it away, as I have tried to do. I can let it in. So I'm going to keep working on that, the theory being that once I can just let it be there, I'll be freer in the rest of my life.

Next I went to a talk that was supposed to be about the attachment loss experienced by those of us who went through developmental trauma, but it actually wasn't really about that. It was about how to approach yourself and world with openness, curiousity, even-handedness and love. It was definitely useful, and I asked the presenter a question about how to apply it to my situation with the New Englander. I found her answer really helpful. She said that it might be about accepting my love for him as part of my path, and similarly, accepting the pain that comes from the separation as part of my path in this life too. There's something pretty peaceful about that, so I'm trying my best.

The last session I went to before heading to my sister's to pick up my kids was Reiki with a new practitioner -- not the one I usually see. She had two takeaways for me: 1) there's nothing to be done about my situation, I just need to be with it (sounds familiar!); 2) I need to work on receiving.

I picked up some free books on my way out the door, one of which is called The Healing Path of Prayer. I started reading it today, and as I did, I heard this classic on the internal sound system:

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus, You've got to help me make a stand.
You've just got to see me through another day.
My body's aching and my time is at hand and I won't make it any other way.
Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again.

Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun.
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around.
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come.
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground.

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,
but I always thought that I'd see you baby, one more time again, now.

Thought I'd see you one more time again.
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now.
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you, fire and rain, now.

I still do think I'll see him, just don't know where or when. In the meantime, I'm hoping to open up some channels that may well have been closed for a while...

No One Else Like You

A few days ago, Netflix delivered Begin Again to my doorstep, and uncharacteristically, I watched it that very night. I'd been looking forward to seeing it, thinking it would offer an emotional catharsis for me.

I was disappointed. No emotional catharsis. I didn't even think it was that good of a movie, to be honest, even though the friend that recommended it to me usually has my tastes pretty well pegged.

The best thing I can say for it is it has a decent soundtrack, including this song:

Woah
Oh, yeah

Is everything just right
Don't want you thinking that I'm in a hurry
I want to stay your friend
I have this vision that has got me worried
Because everyone wants someone
That's one cliche that's true
The sad truth's I want no one
Unless that someone's you

I can relate, except that it doesn't feel like a sad truth right at the moment. Just a truth:

And looks like you
And feels like you
And smiles like you
I want someone just like you
Through and through
I'm forever blue
Because there's no one else like

I hope that you're not mad
You always said you want a man of action
I'm not the hottest lad, no
There's more to life than physical attraction
You got your special someone
But between me and him, guess who
Will spend their whole life waiting
For someone just like you

That looks like you
That feels like you
That smiles like you
I need someone just like you
Love me true
I'm forever blue
Because there's no one else like

Woah

I want you in my arms
I see you in my dreams
I'm gonna make you mine
As crazy as it seems

And also, I'm not gonna make the New Englander mine, because I can't. If I had that power, I would've done it a long time ago. Instead, I have to let go, turn it over, do all those things that I'm no good at it. It's ok, though, growth in those areas is a good thing...

Dearly Departed

Life's just easier when the sun shines for this girl

Yesterday was a tough day. It started off well enough -- practicing yoga with one of my favorite practice partners. But then it devolved into a visit to the dermatologist, which, as per usual, resulted in a biopsy, this time from the top of my forehead. If you look closely in the photo, you can see the spot -- not as well as you could have seen it yesterday, mind you, when my Dr. clearly marked it, like a bullseye, with a bright blue marker.

Then in the afternoon, I had the distinct honor of visiting my dentist for a crown repair. This morning a friend left me a voicemail telling me that "applying a growth mindset, it was actually smart to get those both out of the way in the same day." Mmmmaybe, but it didn't feel good. I guess growth kinda doesn't though, does it?

In any case, after those two encounters, I crawled into bed for a nap, which, on such a cold day, was delightful. And I probably would've stayed there, right up until it was time to get up for yoga at 4:30 this morning, except that I had to give a guest lecture last night. That's right, with a bullseye on my forehead. I also had to meet the professor, who is also a friend and colleague, for dinner beforehand. So up I rose, and it's probably a good thing I did, because this morning when I got to work, I had an email from one of the students thanking me for the "heartfelt, inspiring" presentation and asking me to consider running for State Superintendent. Which, I gotta say, made me feel pretty great.

That email was just one of the pieces of love I received today -- I think in part because I had a moment yesterday when I kinda cried out to whoever was listening: "Really? This is what you've got for me? One hit after another? No breaks?"

Another piece of love was a text from a close friend asking how things were going and saying she was thinking of me. Another was a phone call from a friend and colleague on his drive to work this morning. And another was a text from another friend, one I'd confided in earlier in the week, saying she was thinking of me and giving me the link to this song:

Oooooh
Oooooh
Oooooh
Oooooh

Well
You and I both know that the house is haunted
And you and I both know that the ghost is me
You used to catch me in your bed sheets just rattlin your chains
Well back then baby, it didn't seem so strange

Even when one is dead and gone (or, say, once again living in New England)
It still takes two to make a house a home
Well I'm as lonesome as the catacombs
I hear you call my name but no one is there
Except a feeling in the air

You and I both know that the house is haunted
Yeah you and I both know that the ghost is you
Used to walk around screaming, all slamming all 'dem doors
Well I'm all grown up now, I don't scare easy no more

Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Yeah, you and I both know
Oooohh
Oooohh

Yeah, you and I both know. But it's ok. Really. I asked my first love how long it took him to get over his biggest heartbreak -- and he said at least 2 years. So I'm doing ok. By one measure -- when the New Englander left Madison -- it's been 18 months, but by another -- the last time we communicated -- it's been a week. In either case, I've got time. It's ok that the house still feels haunted today. I can handle it, and I trust that one day it won't.

Overall, I gotta say, today was soooo much easier than yesterday. Today I had a lovely early morning practice with another favorite yoga buddy followed by breakfast from one of my favorite spots -- Lazy Jane's. Then work for a few hours, followed by a haircut and brow wax (note the after photo above), more work, then acupuncture, then parent teacher conferences for my son. Who is seriously rocking high school.

Yep, lots to celebrate. And lots of love.

On a more somber note, it feels apropos that this song is marking this day not just because my friend sent it to me, but because another friend's husband's mother died today. I'm sending out lots of love to her and her family and everyone else out there with a dearly departed loved one -- whether the departure is permanent or not -- I know it hurts like crazy...

Toy Soldiers

I love it when the internal jukebox pulls out a blast from the past, as it did this morning when I was just waking up:

Step by step

Heart to heart

Left, right, left

We all fall down

Like toy soldiers

It wasn't my intention to mislead you

It never should have been this way

What can I say

It's true, I did extend the invitation

I never knew how long you'd stay

When you hear temptation call

It's your heart that takes, takes the fall

Won't you come out and play with me

It was the chorus that I heard in my head:

Step by step

Heart to heart

Left, right, left

We all fall down

Like toy soldiers

Bit by bit

Torn apart

We never win

But the battle wages on

For toy soldiers

It's getting hard to wake up in the morning

My head is spinning constantly

How can it be?

How could I be so blind to this addiction?

If I don't stop, the next one's gonna be me

I hate to be dark, I really do, and I promise I'm trying not to be, but it's this verse that feels most fitting to me today:

Only emptiness remains

It replaces all, all the pain

Won't you come out and play with me

My world just plain loses its luster without my favorite playmate. I'm left feeling that yes, I can live without him. I'm capable of it. Which is good to know, I guess. The thing is, I don't want to, but unfortunately, what I want isn't carrying the day at the moment:

We never win

Only emptiness remains

It replaces all, all the pain

Won't you come out and play with me

Step by step

Heart to heart

Left, right, left

We all fall down

Like toy soldiers

Bit by bit

Torn apart

We never win

But the battle wages on

For toy soldiers

Best That I Can

I like Vance Joy, and this song feels as though it could be my theme song at the moment:

Oh
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying

You can keep moving on like you do
The road goes as far as the eye can see
I won't stand in your way
What's the good in that
And the flowers in their bed
They're drooping and dying and fading away
This weather's no good for growing things

Sick of leaving things half done, leaving things half said
Oh, sick of leaving things half done, leaving things half said

Oh
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying
The best that I can

Will you keep moving on like you do
Will you keep moving on
So will you keep moving you on like you do

Oh
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying
The best that I can
I am
I am trying
The best that I can

Somebody to Love

This song was also part of the St. Vincent soundtrack, and it's the one that has been on repeat for me the last few days. I think, more than anything, because I love this song's sound:

When the truth is found
To be lies
And all the joy
Within you dies

Don't you want somebody to love?
Don't you need somebody to love?
Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
You better find somebody to love
Love

As anyone who's read this blog over the past four plus years knows:

1) Yes, I want somebody to love
2) Yes, I need somebody to love
3) Yes, I'd love somebody to love
4) I already found somebody to love

But that love and I have entered a period of discernment, not for the first time, although this time I'm clearer that this period is really for him to ask himself a version of those very same questions that I've already gotten very clear on for myself:

Don't you want somebody to love?
Don't you need somebody to love?
Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
You better find somebody to love

And I do mean all four of them as questions -- because for me, having found a love like ours feels like a done deal. But he seems to need to ponder whether he better find somebody to love -- whether this one he's already found or any other -- and seems to be feeling that what he needs is actually to focus his attention elsewhere:

Your eyes, I say your eyes
May look like his
Yeah, but in your head, baby
I'm afraid you don't know where it is

And for right now, though it isn't comfortable, I'm learning to be ok with that choice that he is making, and trying, each day, to understand what it means for me. For right now, it means there's a space in my life where his voice used to be. I'm consciously trying not to fill the space just to fill the space, which again, leaves me feeling a lot of discomfort.

But I'm not railing against the injustice of the situation the way I was before. I have a greater sense that giving him the space to do what he needs to do for himself will benefit me most no matter what he decides:

Don't you want somebody to love?
Don't you need somebody to love?
Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
You better find somebody to love

If he decides he wants and needs and loves somebody to love, and more specifically, if he decides that I am that somebody, then he can come to me from a place of knowing that that's his truth, a decision he's come to for himself, instead of feeling the pressure of my desire for him to decide that and then wavering back and forth because he doesn't know in his heart of hearts that it's what he wants.

And if he decides he either doesn't want, need and love somebody to love, or that somebody isn't me, then I've spent the time leading up to that decision trying to get comfortable in a world without him actively loving me (with his voice and his body). Much better preparation for losing him than carrying on the way we were.

None of this is easy, but the things worth fighting for -- whether the somebody I love or being more comfortable on my own -- never are, are they?

Control

One of the things I'm trying to leave behind is my need for control. I understand that I came by it honestly -- that those who emerge from developmental trauma tend to fall into two categories: the overcontroller and the underperformer, and I am in the former.

My desire for control is present in many aspects of my life, but it appears to be most problematic in my relationship with my daughter, which I seem to be able to see more clearly with each passing day. (I guess that's a good thing.)

So when I woke up early this morning, too early, I googled how to stop being controlling, and got some decent ideas.

I also got this song, coming in loud and clear, on the internal sound system:

This is a story about control
My control
Control of what I say
Control of what I do
And this time I'm gonna do it my way (my way)
I hope you enjoy this as much as I do
Are we ready?
I am
'Cause it's all about control (control)
And I've got lots of it)
When I was 17 I did what people told me, uhh!
Did what my father said, and let my mother mold me
But that was long ago

I'm in
Control
Never gonna stop
Control
To get what I want
Control
I like to have a lot
Control
Now I'm all grown up

First time I fell in love, I didn't know what hit me
So young and so naive, I thought it would be easy
Now I know I got to take

Control
Now I've got a lot, ow!
Control
To get what I want
Control
I'm never gonna stop
Control
Now I'm all grown up

Jam, ooh ooh
Rebel, that's right
I'm on my own, I'll call my own shots
Thank you

Got my own mind
I wanna make my own decisions
When it has to do with my life, my life
I wanna be the one in control

So let me take you by the hand, and lead you in this dance
Control
It's what I got, because I took a chance
I don't wanna rule the world, just wanna run my life
Ooh
So make your life a little easier
When you get the chance just take

Control, ooh ooh
Now I've got a lot, ooh
Control
To get what I want, ow!
Control
I'm never gonna stop
Control
Now I'm all grown up, ooh!

Free at last
Out here on my own
Ooh ooh ooh yeah, eee

Now control this, uhh
Control
That's right
Control
Career moves
Control
I do what's right for me
Control
And me wants to groove
Is that okay?
Yeah!
Ooh, control

I've got my own mind
Ooh baby
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah
I've got my own mind
Wanna make my own decisions
When it has to do with my life
I wanna be the one in control

And I do, wanna be the one in control, to the extent that I can, when it comes to things that are important to my well-being and my children's. But I don't want to try to control the little stuff. And I want to give my daughter control over everything that is appropriate for her to be in control over - because that's going to help her develop a strong sense of herself. To do that, I just need to let go. One day at a time...

Hard to Find

Today I had the pleasure of some alone time with my high schooler. There are many things that freak me out about being the parent of a teenager, but there are also perks to him getting older: I can take him to see PG-13 Bill Murray movies, as I did tonight. We saw St. Vincent, which we both thoroughly enjoyed, and then we went out for sushi. It was awesome.

In some ways I know that times like that with my son are numbered, but in a way, they are a bridge to the kind of relationship I will have with him after he leaves home. And I'm super grateful that even at 14, he's good company.

The song that most resonated for today for me from the movie soundtrack was this one:

I can see the glowing lights
I can see them every night
Really not that far away
I could be there in a day

I wonder if you live there still
I kinda think you always will
If I tried you'd probably be
Hard to find

What I feel now about you then
I'm just glad I can explain
You're beautiful and close and young
In those ways we were the same

I think my favorite verse is this next one:

There's a lot I've not forgotten
I let go of other things
If I tried they'd probably be
Hard to find

I'm trying to let go of as much as I can that no longer serves me, and my son is someone who often assists me with that process. Because we enjoy such ease in our relationship, I'm able to hear things from him that would be harder to hear from someone with whom I was not as close. I also felt this way in my relationship with the New Englander: though it wasn't always easy to hear about something in me that was presenting a difficulty for him, eventually I always landed on wanting to do what I could to increase his comfort with me and with us.

I'm working on doing that now with my daughter, it's just harder, probably in part because she's like a little version of me and I'm still working on healing the mini me that dwells within:

I don't know why we had to lose
The ones who took so little space
They're still waiting for the east
To cover what we can't erase

I'm also REALLY trying to say out loud every day that I'm not in control and I don't need to be and can instead trust my higher power (Alanon speak for God or what I usually call the Universe) to keep me safe and healthy and provided for and loved.

And it's a good thing, too, because:

I'm not holding out for you
I'm still watching for the signs
If I tried you'd probably be
Hard to find

Shiny Happy People

The birthday girl and her lovely daughters

What a difference a day makes, and it doesn't hurt at all when that day is a day off from school and work.

Ahhhh, the luxury of sleeping in myself -- I didn't see the time on the clock until 7:45am and after that I stayed in bed and read The New Yorker -- and not having to wake me kids up and get them out the door to school. I think we all really needed a day off.

We had some excitement, too, starting last night when we had our favorite newly 36-year-old Mom over for a belated birthday dinner. My daughter loves nothing more than to bake and decorate cakes, so she was all over helping me prepare for the celebration.

It's so much fun to see my kids with my friend's baby. They love to make her smile and laugh, and I love seeing them in that capacity. I always thought I'd have another baby but now it looks more likely that I won't, which just makes our time with my friend's baby that much more special.

My shiny happy kids and their muse (who's often in motion!)

Contemplating the shift in mood today, this REM song came to mind:

Shiny happy people laughing

Meet me in the crowd, people, people
Throw your love around, love me, love me
Take it into town, happy, happy
Put it in the ground where the flowers grow
Gold and silver shine

Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people laughing

Everyone around, love them, love them
Put it in your hands, take it, take it
There's no time to cry, happy, happy
Put it in your heart where tomorrow shines
Gold and silver shine

Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people holding hands
Shiny happy people laughing

Whoa, here we go

The other excitement we had came later today -- this time in the form of smoke filling part of the house. It was bizarre because it was mostly coming out of the fireplace we don't use. We eventually figured out that the ashes from the fireplace we used last night and the ashes of the other fireplace go to the same spot. My daughter had raked what must've been still-smoldering coals down the little chute, and it turned out that all kinds of things were in the soot-collection area, including newspapers.

Somewhat miraculously, my kids, who'd had their moments of not getting along on their day off, totally bonded over shoveling all of the soot out and dumping it outside on the compost pile, turning it into a fun evening. We ate dinner on the floor of my bedroom because it was both smoky and freezing cold in the dining room's half of the house, and I gave thanks, once again, for a joyful, peaceful evening with my kids.

Me, Myself and I

This process of disentangling the best parts of me from the fearful, I-need-to-fantasize-to-stay-alive, the-truth-is-too-painful-so-I-don't-want-to-see-it parts, is long, it's arduous and it can be very lonely.

Slowly, slowly, slowly I am realizing that my need/desire to check out of that process every so often is just making it harder, and no one brings that truth home to me faster or more clearly than my daughter.

Last night, after a series of yucky interactions with her, I was feeling lonely and frustrated. My favorite person to talk to about this dynamic and my part in it is the New Englander -- he has this way of seeing and celebrating both of us at the same time, and always seems to have helpful suggestions to help me navigate the situation -- but I couldn't call him.

I mean I could have, but I've recently more clearly identified the dynamic we keep falling into that isn't working for me, where we have a talk like the one I just described, and I go right back to that place of feeling he is my person so why isn't he here with me, only to find him still in the space where he doesn't know if he is my person or that he wants to be with me. And that doesn't help. It qualifies, instead, as a manifestation of my desire to check out of the process every so often that I referenced above. It fits squarely in the category of let's just pretend that this works because for now it is making me feel good. No. Not now that I can see how that keeps me locked in this cycle that puts me right back into abandoned little girl mode. That's not what I need for myself, and it certainly isn't what my daughter needs from me.

I found this song from Beyonce that expresses many elements of what I'm feeling this early morning.

There's the feeling of thinking you're sure of something only to find yourself repeatedly in a situation where it might make some sense to make room for the possibility that you're not:

I can't believe I believed
Everything we had would last...
...Silly of me to dream of
One day having your kids
Love is so blind
It feels right when it's wrong

I won't go as far to say that the love I feel for the New Englander is wrong, but I can admit that my willingness to suspend reality and go with the fantasy is alive and well within the context of the situation in which we now find ourselves.

And there's the feeling of self-empowerment, the one where I say hey, wait a minute, I am strong, I am wise, and I can do this on my own for right now, even if I don't want to:

Cuz I realized I got
Me myself and I
That's all I got in the end
That's what I found out
And it ain't no need to cry
I took a vow that from now on
I'm gonna be my own best friend

But I'm not going to go as far as Beyonce:

Me myself and I
I know that I will never disappoint myself
I must have cried a thousand times
All the ladies if you feel me
Help me sing it now
I can't regret all the times spent with you
Ya, you hurt me
But I learned a lot along the way
After all the rain
You'll see the sun come out again
I know that I will never disappoint myself

Because I do disappoint myself sometimes. I did last night, in fact, in some of the interactions with my daughter. But I'm ok with that. I understand that's all part of the healing process. And I'm on board with that, even when it's difficult...

Tom Traubert's Blues

In addition to connecting about our work in the world, the colleague and friend I had coffee with yesterday also shared a tragedy from his personal life with me: His 22-year old daughter killed herself earlier this year.

Oof. I can only imagine the pain that comes with losing a child in any capacity, but to lose a child to suicide must have its own set of difficulties.

I may not know exactly what that's like, but I do know about loss. And I do know about severe depression. I know what it feels like to be separated from the best parts of yourself and not believe there is a path back, let alone be able to see it.

Up early again this morning, I can feel a heaviness in my chest. It's hard to say exactly what it's about, and I'm guessing it's a combination of old and new wounds, with a not small dose of wow-this-life-can-be-painful that I felt wash over me when I heard about my friend's daughter.

What's a girl who's alone in the house and feeling sad this cold November morning to do? Put on some Tom Waits and let the tears rip, of course:

Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did, I've got what I paid for now
See you tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow a couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And I'm tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English, and everything's broken, and my Stacys are soaking wet
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab's parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open,
And I'm down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill's I staggered, you'd bury the dagger
In your silhouette window light go
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I've kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinamen, and the cold-blooded signs,
And the girls down by the strip-tease shows, go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

No, I don't want your sympathy, the fugitives say
That the streets aren't for dreaming now
And manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories,
They want a piece of the action anyhow
Go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

And you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailor,
And the old men in wheelchairs know
And Mathilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred,
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

And it's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace,
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna, the perfume is on an
Old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers, the night watchmen flame keepers
And goodnight to Mathilda, too

I reckon Tom's right. Some wounds will never heal. They'll ease over time, they'll wax and they'll wane, and they'll teach us just what we need to understand to bring our own best selves to the world...

Shiver

Woke up with this song in my head this morning:

So I look in your direction
But you pay me no attention, do you
I know you don't listen to me
'Cause you say you see straight through me, don't you

And on and on from the moment I wake
To the moment I sleep
I'll be there by your side
Just you try and stop me
I'll be waiting in line
Just to see if you can

Did she want me to change
Well I change for good
And I want you to know
But you always get your way
I wanted to say

Don't you shiver, shiver, shiver

And I hate to admit it, but this song was on a CD that my first love made me a few years ago, and I never realized it was Coldplay or that he was saying the word "shiver."

I think I know why it's here this morning, though, and that's this next line:

I'll always be waiting for you

The New Englander has told me several times over the last few months that he can't be responsible for me waiting for him. Part of me hears that and says ok, so don't take responsibility for it. Isn't it my choice whether I wait for him or not? Or wouldn't it be, if I understood what that really means? My best guess is that it means not considering any other men prospects to be my mate.

I gotta say, I don't really feel in charge of that. Not really. I mean I could get on Match.com and set up a profile saying I was looking to meet someone else, but if I'm really not, if what I'd really be doing is looking for a warm body and a kind heart connected to a man who is also still entangled with another love and thus less likely to get hurt in that kind of a situation, well, then it feels a little silly to get on there.

I trust that if the Universe wants me to meet and date someone else, he'll cross my path and make that clear: he'll be someone I'm attracted to, someone I can have fun with, someone fit and funny and smart and kind and empathetic. You know, someone like the New Englander, except for the living in New England part.

We'll see how it goes. I am open. I am feeling like this is a period of expansion for me. Today I had coffee with one of my favorite colleagues from the University, and I told him about my big dreams about the next step in my career, and he really got it. He even thinks he can pull together a group of people to talk to about it, so I'm super excited about that. What's more, he told me how much he admires what I'm doing right now in my career, and how I'm doing it, and encouraged me to stay as long as I can because he's so convinced I'm in the right spot. Hmmm, don't know about that, but I sure appreciated all the love.

Speaking of love -- back to Coldplay -- Chris, there's one thing I gotta disagree with you on after my experiences to date with the New Englander:

And is this is my final chance of getting you

...and that's that there ever is a final chance of getting someone. I don't think there is. I think there are infinite chances when a love is this expansive. I don't see how it could work any other way.

But I am feeling these lyrics:

And on and on from the moment I wake
To the moment I sleep
I'll be there by your side
Just you try and stop me
I'll be waiting in line
Just to see if you care

Except that list line. I know he cares. That's never been the question.

So yeah, even as I open myself to other possibilities, I'll:

Sing it loud and clear
I'll always be waiting for you

Yeah I'll always be waiting for you
Yeah I'll always be waiting for you
Yeah I'll always be waiting for you
For you I will always be waiting

Always is a long time. I don't know about always. I often hear Axl's voice inside my head singing a line from the classic November Rain:

And we both know hearts can change

That we do. And if my heart changes, I'll stop waiting. I promise. If it doesn't, it doesn't. I'm done trying to control it. That's not how I want to love anymore...

Hard TImes (No One Knows Better Than I)

I had a little trouble getting out of bed this morning. Monday and all that, I guess. By the time I did rise and shine, I didn't have time to ride my bike to Mound Street to practice and then ride to the gym and shower before my meeting, so I ended up taking my road bike straight to the Capitol and doing some yoga there before jumping in the shower.

Before I left the house, the ipod seemed to be intent on giving me a little perspective on my sluggishness -- when this song came on, I thought to myself, I don't know any problems in my life right now on par those that Ray is singing about:

My mother told me
'Fore she passed away
Said son when I'm gone
Don't forget to pray

'Cause there'll be hard times
Lord those hard times
Who knows better than I?

Well I soon found out
Just what she meant
When I had to pawn my clothes
Just to pay the rent

Talkin' 'bout hard times
Lord those hard times
Who knows better than I?

I had a woman
Who was always around
But when I lost my money
She put me down

Talkin' 'bout hard times
Hard times
Yeah, yeah, who knows better than I?

Lord, one of these days
There'll be no more sorrow
When I pass away

And no more hard times
No more hard times
Yeah, yeah, who knows better than I?

I felt the same way at the Alanon meeting I went to last night, where people with sons and daughters who are active alcoholics talked about their trials and tribulations. My own heartache really doesn't compare to that, and I couldn't be more grateful that both of my children are healthy.

Thanks in part to Ray Charles, in part to Alanon, and in part to all the work I've done so far to walk a path of truth, I saw so much beauty as I rode to work today: All the other bikers who were out with me on a chilly November mroning. All the ducks on Lake Mendota. The lights shining in the greenhouses (in the Botany department on campus) the way they do when the sun's not bright enough to match their intensity. So much beauty. It really helps me stay in the present moment and appreciate how relatively un-hard a time in my life this is by comparison to the trials and tribulations of so many others out there...

Hand in My Pocket

This is year five for this blog, and thus I often have the experience where a song that so totally fits the moment or the day comes into my head, only to find that I've already used it. In this case, happily, I had not.

Let me tell you a little story about how Alanis ended up in my head today. This weekend was supposed to be a yoga weekend for me where a teacher whom I love was going to come in from New Jersey to teach a workshop all weekend. That didn't happen, which left me with a different weekend than the one I was expecting to have.

So I wasn't sure exactly what to do with my Saturday. I still had mountains of yard work to do, so I knew getting out there for at least an hour was gonna be important, especially with snow in the forecast for next week. I also had lots of housework, and the desire to spend some time reading, writing and resting.

Right before I headed out the door to do yard work, I talked to my son, who reminded me that he had an indoor soccer game at 6:30pm. While out raking, I hatched a plan to hit Quarry Ridge to ride in the last hour of daylight, then head to the gym and hit the hot tub before walking across the street to Breakaway, where my son plays indoor soccer. I hadn't initially planned on riding today, but the inspiration struck, and I decided to go with it.

Sunset at Quarry Ridge last night

When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw my Canadian friend's car. I felt a little embarrassed about the note and unsure how I was going to handle it if I ran into him, which I knew was likely because that place is so dang small. I asked the Universe, as I do when I remember, to let my lessons be peaceful, easy and comfortable.

And of course, it was on my first lap that, when I got to the top, he was pausing to take in the sunset, which, as you can see, was pretty dang magnificent last night. But I didn't capture this photo at that point. Oh no. Because as soon as I saw that he was up there, I took off as fast I could on the path heading back down.

That's when Alanis popped into my head with her oh-so-apt-for-that-moment lyric:

I'm brave but I'm chickenshit

Yep. I told myself that it was the right thing to do -- what if he's married, or has a girlfriend, or just isn't interested, or is someone whom, if I took a good look at him or got to know him, I wouldn't actually be interested in hanging out with either? Better to leave it alone -- let him call me if he feels like it.

Even though that was a little uncomfortable, I do think the Universe heard my request, because at another point, I was climbing up a challenging section, and there was some other dude, the kind that don't scare me because there was no potential attraction, watching me and when I made it he said: "Nicely done!" which I thought was adorable and it allowed me to switch back to feeling brave after feeling decidedly chickenshit.

And then I took my still cold in some spots but sweaty in others bod to the gym and climbed into the hot tub, only to find myself sharing it with my son's former soccer coach. We had a nice chat, covering topics that ranged from soccer and kids to divorce and heartbreak, and when I got done showering, he was sitting in the lobby, waiting to ask if I was interested in getting some dinner.

So after my son's soccer game, we did just that. It felt strange to be out on what felt like at least sort of a date, but also kind of nice, in the way exploring new territory that isn't really gorgeous or really dangerous or really anything can feel kind of nice. And I guess it was a date, because he paid and then said he'd had a good time and asked if he could call me to go out again. Sure, I said. Why not? I didn't really feel anything in particular about him or for him, but it was a pretty pleasant evening.

Then this morning, a new guy joined my group for our regular Sunday yoga practice, and a few of us ended up getting coffee with him afterward. And I can't really explain it, but what I felt interacting with him was exactly what I didn't feel last night: charged up, excited, smiling, enjoying the easy banter. He's married, with a wife living faraway in another state, so it's not like I see him as a prospect. I hope that's not the reason I felt the freedom to feel those things -- the curse of the unavailable man. I would hope that's been lifted by now but it's a strong one.

As if all that wasn't enough excitement for one weekend, I also had a nice chat with the New Englander today. He's such a good man. I really love him. But I also now really get what he's been trying to tell me: He needs space to find himself. He knows he loves me but he doesn't know he wants a life with me. He needs the end game undefined, which wasn't working so well with my desire to lock it down and get on with the rest of our lives. This is it though, you know? This day is the rest of my life. And for me, living it when the end game isn't locked down means exploring what else is out there, even if a part of me feels like a traitor or a hypocrite or a bad girl (that's my inner child talking) for wanting to do that.

Lucky for us, Alanis knows all about feeling the range from one end of the spectrum to the other, often in the same moment, and she's here to sing about it for us:

I'm broke but I'm happy
I'm poor but I'm kind
I'm short but I'm healthy, yeah
I'm high but I'm grounded
I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed
I'm lost but I'm hopeful baby
What it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be fine fine fine
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving a high five
I feel drunk but I'm sober
I'm young and I'm underpaid
I'm tired but I'm working, yeah
I care but I'm restless
I'm here but I'm really gone
I'm wrong and I'm sorry baby

What it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be quite alright
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is flicking a cigarette
And what it all comes down to
Is that I haven't got it all figured out just yet
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving the peace sign
I'm free but I'm focused
I'm green but I'm wise
I'm hard but I'm friendly baby
I'm sad but I'm laughing
I'm brave but I'm chickenshit
I'm sick but I'm pretty baby

And what it all boils down to
Is that no one's really got it figured out just yet
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is playing the piano
And what it all comes down to my friends
Is that everything's just fine fine fine
'cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is hailing a taxi cab

Having two hands appears to be a theme here, over these last two posts. Yep, I've got two hands. One's in the New Englander's pants er pocket, and the other one's open for exploring what else is out there...

Girls Chase Boys

It seems like this song is on the radio constantly these days -- in the car -- at the gym:

All the broken hearts in the world still beat
Let's not make it harder than it has to be
Ohh, it's all the same thing
Girls chase boys chase girls

Yes they do. And I've done my share in the past, but up until yesterday, I wasn't interested in chasing boys. Why would I, my heart kept telling me, when I've already found my love?

Because, my brain fired back today, your love has told you that he's staying put in New England for the foreseeable future, and that he's not ready to be your one-and-only.

Which means, added my sweaty bod when I came off the trails at CamRock to find a dude loading up his stuff in the parking lot, it's time for you to get back out there again:

I'm a little let down but I'm not dead
There's a little bit more that has to be said
You played me now I play you too
Let's just call it over

Yes, let's. Because it is, for now, at least. But seeing as the last boy chasing I did was in the summer of 2010 before I met the New Englander, I gotta admit, I'm feeling a little rusty.

So while I thought about just asking this dude in the parking lot if he wanted to get a beer, I didn't. And then he drove away before I did, so as I started back toward town, I told myself that if I saw his car parked somewhere, I would stop.

With this note, I'm officially back to boy chasing

There it was, at the first bar I drove past, and true to my word, I did stop. But when I went in, I didn't immediately see him. I hadn't exactly studied what he looked like, remembering mostly his clothes, which I guess he must've changed when he got there. Plus, the way the bar is set up, most of the people's backs were to me, giving me no chance of picking him out easily.

The difficulty in identifying said mountain biker, combined with my competing desire to go to a yoga class, made me decide to walk back out of the bar. But as I started to drive away, I told myself I needed to do a little better than that for my first boy chasing effort, so I left a note on his car.

Who knows if he will call? Who knows if I'll be attracted to him if he does? The one thing I know is that my intuition would've let me know if pursuing a conversation with him/leaving a note had a bigger possible downside than a benign but ultimately futile effort. He had a Canadian bumper sticker -- how bad could he be?

In any case, it's exciting in that it helps me affirm to the Universe:

I got two hands, one beating heart
And I'll be alright
I'm gonna be alright
Yeah I got two hands, one beating heart
And I'll be alright
I'm gonna be alright...