About Today

Today's tune is brought to you by my friends at Grey's Anatomy, which I was reunited with upon my return to Wireless Internet service -- a blessing and a curse. I do love that show, though, and I love that it helps provide me with emotional catharses right when I need them.

 Hearing this song on the episode opened something in me today:

Today you were far away
and I didn't ask you why
What could I say
I was far away
You just walked away
and I just watched you
What could I say

How close am I to losing you

Tonight you just close your eyes
and I just watch you
slip away

How close am I to losing you

Hey, are you awake
Yeah I'm right here
Well can I ask you about today

How close am I to losing you
How close am I to losing

Good question. In some ways I lost him while I still had him, in some ways I've lost him further since we broke up, and in other ways I can't imagine I ever will. And I probably won't. My first love is still in my life. But I reckon I'm going to have to lose more of my last love if I want to make space for someone new...

Drivin' On 9

The scene at the dock on our last evening

I took my niece, one of my nephews, and my kids up north to our family's cabin this past weekend. The weather was gorgeous, the kids got along great, and we survived the inevitable stressful moments that come with spending time with my parents.

Even the car rides were smooth. When we got home today, I had a mountain of laundry to do and a DVD that needed to go back to Netflix. The movie was called Anthem, and it was one of those that I don't even remember putting in my queue.

It was a documentary about two women who travel the country to talk to people about the American Dream and whether it is still alive. This song was part of the soundtrack -- and having just returned from a roadtrip, it seems an appropriate soundtrack for marking my day as well:

Drivin' on 9
You could be a shadow
Beneath the street light
Behind my home

Drivin' on 9
I sure miss you
Pass a motel
Looking at the pines

Drivin' on 9
Looking for one thirty
Maybe I passed it
Go another mile

Drivin' on 9
Drivin' on 9

Drivin' on 9
I'll sure look pretty
Carson City
Walking down the isle

Drivin' on 9
Does daddy have a shotgun
He said he'd never need one
Go another mile

Drivin' on 9

Drivin' on 9
Looking out my window sill
Wondering if I want you still
Wondering what's right

What's more, that last verse is quite descriptive of where I am and what I'm feeling now that I'm back home from time with my parents. Lots of things are hard about breakups. I miss the physical closeness a whole bunch. But more than that, I miss knowing that there's one person I want to call or talk to about my experience, and having him be either sitting next to me or on the other end of the phone.

I'm getting used to it. I am. But it's taking a long time. Once someone becomes your go-to person for sharing what's in your heart, wanting to go to them is hard habit to break...

Naked As We Came

This love song isn't nearly as upbeat or catchy as yesterday's post, but it's another one that stuck with me days after I heard it.

In this case, I'd never heard it before, but I think it's really lovely:

She says "wake up, it's no use pretending"
I'll keep stealing, breathing her.
Birds are leaving over autumn's ending
One of us will die inside these arms
Eyes wide open, naked as we came
One will spread our ashes 'round the yard

She says "If I leave before you, darling
Don't you waste me in the ground"
I lay smiling like our sleeping children
One of us will die inside these arms
Eyes wide open, naked as we came
One will spread our ashes round the yard

When I heard it, I thought: I know what that feels like. To love and be loved so much that the thought of dying in his arms is peaceful and comforting and not at all scary.

And that's so huge, that knowledge. Because it means I'm not going to settle for anything shy of it...

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

Another one of the Slacker so-called best love songs ever, this song has been playing on and off inside my head since I heard it on my run yesterday:

Listen, baby
Ain't no mountain high
Ain't no valley low
Ain't no river wide enough, baby

If you need me, call me
No matter where you are
No matter how far
Just call my name
I'll be there in a hurry
You don't have to worry

'Cause baby,
There ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you

It's such a nice idea, the kind of love for which no mountain is too high to climb. I don't know for sure -- I'm still learning -- but I think it takes both the love and the willingness to keep climbing. Because love doesn't bridge the gap all by itself. It gives us the power to bridge the gap, if we are both willing and able to harness it.

At least, that's my belief:

Remember the day
I set you free
I told you
You could always count on me
From that day on I made a vow
I'll be there when you want me
Some way, some how

'Cause baby,
There ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you

No wind, no rain

My love is alive
Way down in my heart
Although we are miles apart
If you ever need a helping hand
I'll be there on the double
As fast as I can

It sure is hard, having found the love and having the willingness myself, to give up on the climb. As hard as I have worked to get off the mountain, it keeps calling me back. It's true that I don't have a partner who is willing and able to bridge the gap at the moment. But that doesn't seem to require me to do anything yet. So I'm trying to just be where I am. In the space where I know what it takes and I know I have what it takes, but I don't know who will meet me there...

Your Body is a Wonderland

It was hot and humid today, but after briefly considering running inside and then going to a fitness class I decided to take my regular 7 miler outside. The hot weather is just part of the experience, I told myself. And it wasn't so bad. I decided to listen to another Slacker countdown -- the top 44 love songs of all time -- which for starters let me just say is a misnomer for many of the songs on this list.

Including this one, which the countdown hosts said was written by John Mayer at age 14 about his girlfriend at the time. 14? Are you kidding me? I have a 14 year old. I can't imagine that someone wrote a song like this when he was that young. I was in my 20s when I first heard the expression room for two:

We got the afternoon
You got this room for two
One thing I've left to do
Discover me
Discovering you

One mile to every inch of
Your skin like porcelain
One pair of candy lips and
Your bubblegum tongue

And if you want love
We'll make it
Swim in a deep sea
Of blankets
Take all your big plans
And break 'em
This is bound to be a while

Your body is a wonderland
Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands)
Your body is a wonderland

I like to think I have a little more time before the body being a wonderland becomes part of my children's world -- but maybe I have less time than I think!

All the World (I Tell Myself)

This afternoon I met a friend at a coffee shop at her request. Things have been up and down with her boyfriend for a while, but the story she had for me was so much worse than anything resembling a typical up or down. Basically, her boyfriend was still sleeping with and texting his "ex" the entire time they were together. Which was three years! She was with a man living a lie for three years. Earth-shattering.

As I said to her, these are the times in life when we understand the Buddhist teaching that the only certainty is death. Other human beings are just not something about which we can ever truly be certain, and there's probably no harder realization to come to in this crazy world. Of course, you can learn, as I know my friend will and I hope I am, to stack the deck in your favor next time rather than trying to play a hand that something inside you knows isn't a winner, but there are still no guarantees.

This song was from the episode of Grey's Anatomy that I watched tonight, and it seems to be about the search for meaning that can sometimes be so obvious and other times so obscured:

Say that I'm changed, say I'm different
Maybe I'll finally understand
Say I'll let go, say it's obvious
Oh, I tell myself over, over and over again

I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to believe

So tell me I'm strong, tell me I'm weak
Tell me I'll never, ever bend
Then tell me I'm fire, tell me I'm cold
Cold oh, I tell myself over, over and over again

I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to believe

And all the world can watch the choices you make
All the world can watch each tiny mistake
Let the world watch to let the world wait for you

So tell me I'm wrong, or tell me I'm cruel
Tell me I'd fight, yeah tell me I fought for the wrong things

But I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to believe
I'm ready, I'm ready
I'm ready to believe

Hit Me Baby One More Time

Sweet baby Hazel

This song is another in the list of 66 songs that changed everything that I listened to the other day, and so it kinda makes sense that it was on repeat today when I was hanging out with my friend's baby:

Oh, baby, baby
Oh, baby, baby

Oh, baby, baby, how was I supposed to know
That something wasn't right here
Oh, baby, baby, I shouldn't have let you go
And now you're out of sight, yeah

Of course, this song is about the other kind of baby, but methinks they're related:

Show me how you want it to be
Tell me, baby, 'cause I need to know now
Oh, because

My loneliness is killin' me
(And I)
I must confess I still believe
(Still believe)
When I'm not with you I lose my mind
Give me a sign
Hit me, baby, one more time

Because it was the same loneliness I felt when I lost my man that strengthened my desire to have another baby. I wanted that closeness. That feeling of belonging. Of Oneness.

I'm happy to report that I've come to find out I can have that feeling without a man or a baby, because both the man and the baby are just means of accessing something that is actually within me: my being, my light.

I'm reading a book right now called Perfect Love: Imperfect Relationships, and the author does a brilliant job of laying out all the ways we try to get the love we are looking from other people -- what he calls horizontally -- when what we really need is to get it vertically -- by connecting with our own true nature. For me it's a real relief, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

My now two-week old commitment to the Ashtanga path of 6-day per week practice is already having a profound impact on my life. I've got a ways to go, but I'm doing so much better at focusing on myself and my own healing. And it feels like it's working. And I'm lucky, because I do get to hang out with a super cute baby every once in a while and have her nap on my chest as she did today, which is one of my very favorite feelings in the world.

But I no longer feel like I need to have another one of my own. I feel like I don't know what direction my life is going to go in -- I don't know what's next for me on my career path, I don't know who my new man will be, and I don't know if I'll ever have more kids -- either my own bio, adopted, or step. I don't know.

But I know the what the path I'm on looks like. I know that it involves going to an Alanon meeting on Father's Day when my father ignores what I've written to him in his Father's Day card. I know it involves a commitment to being as present and as loving as I can be for my kids. I know it means practicing Ashtanga six days per week, including tomorrow, even though I'm pretty sore after all the yoga I did this weekend. I know it involves daily meditation, even if it's only for five minutes some days. And I know it means staying really fit, biking most places I go, and being able to head out the door for a run that lasts an hour or more without being sore afterward. I know it means caring for my beautiful home for which I am profoundly grateful. And I know it means using both music and writing to make sense of my life.

So even if there are a lot of pretty big unknowns, there's a lot I do know, and it's everything I need to know right now...

Same Love

Today was such a gorgeous day. Sunny but cool -- perfect running weather. So I decided to do one of my faves -- the Capitol to Picnic Point and back. My slacker choice turned out to be an inspired one -- the 66 songs that changed everything. I didn't get through all 66 -- but this song was one of them:

When I was in the third grade I thought that I was gay,
'Cause I could draw, my uncle was, and I kept my room straight.
I told my mom, tears rushing down my face
She's like "Ben you've loved girls since before pre-k, trippin'."
Yeah, I guess she had a point, didn't she?
Bunch of stereotypes all in my head.
I remember doing the math like, "Yeah, I'm good at little league."
A preconceived idea of what it all meant
For those that liked the same sex
Had the characteristics
The right wing conservatives think it's a decision
And you can be cured with some treatment and religion
Man-made rewiring of a predisposition
Playing God, aw nah here we go
America the brave still fears what we don't know
And "God loves all his children" is somehow forgotten
But we paraphrase a book written thirty-five-hundred years ago
I don't know

I'd heard the song before, and liked it, but mainly knew the chorus:

And I can't change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
And I can't change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm

And because I mainly knew the chorus, I didn't know specifically to what it was referring:

If I was gay, I would think hip-hop hates me
Have you read the YouTube comments lately?
"Man, that's gay" gets dropped on the daily
We become so numb to what we're saying
A culture founded from oppression
Yet we don't have acceptance for 'em
Call each other faggots behind the keys of a message board
A word rooted in hate, yet our genre still ignores it
Gay is synonymous with the lesser
It's the same hate that's caused wars from religion
Gender to skin color, the complexion of your pigment
The same fight that led people to walk outs and sit ins
It's human rights for everybody, there is no difference!
Live on and be yourself
When I was at church they taught me something else
If you preach hate at the service those words aren't anointed
That holy water that you soak in has been poisoned
When everyone else is more comfortable remaining voiceless
Rather than fighting for humans that have had their rights stolen
I might not be the same, but that's not important
No freedom 'til we're equal, damn right I support it

But now that I do, I can't think of a more appropriate song to mark this day, for two reasons:

The first reason is that one week ago today, a judge opened the door to same sex marriage in Wisconsin, setting off a flurry of marriage licenses and weddings that may or may not be in legal limbo (depending on who you ask). In any event, it is no longer a question of whether Wisconsin will join the list of states that admits that love is the same whether it is a man and a woman or two men or two women, it's just a question of when it will be 100% officially legal:

(I don't know)

And I can't change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm

We press play, don't press pause
Progress, march on
With the veil over our eyes
We turn our back on the cause
'Til the day that my uncles can be united by law
When kids are walking 'round the hallway plagued by pain in their heart
A world so hateful some would rather die than be who they are
And a certificate on paper isn't gonna solve it all
But it's a damn good place to start
No law is gonna change us
We have to change us
Whatever God you believe in
We come from the same one
Strip away the fear
Underneath it's all the same love
About time that we raised up... sex

And I can't change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
And I can't change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm

The second reason is that I'm back to really feeling the love today -- from my kids, from myself -- in a way that lets me know that the same love I felt when I had a man next to me keeping me warm is the love that I'm feeling now:

Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is patient
Love is kind
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I'm not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I'm not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I'm not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
Love is kind

The Best Day of My Life

The 5th grade grad with her Mama in a candid

It's been a big couple of days for my family. Yesterday my son graduated from 8th grade, and today my daughter graduated from 5th grade. When I was a kid, you didn't graduate until 12th grade, but I appreciated the ceremonies marking the passages my kids will be making this year.

At my daughter's ceremony, the kids chose to sing this song:

I had a dream so big and loud
I jumped so high I touched the clouds
Wo-oah-oah-oah-oah-oh-oh
Wo-oah-oah-oah-oah-oh-oh
I stretched my hands out to the sky
We danced with monsters through the night
Wo-oah-oah-oah-oah-oh-oh
Oah-oah-oah-oah-oah-oh-oh

I'm never gonna look back, woah
I'm never gonna give it up, noo
Please don't wake me now

Oo-o-o-o-o-o
This is gonna be the best day of my (Oo-o-o-o-o-o)life
My li-i-i-i-i-ii-ife
Oo-o-o-o-o-oooooo
This is gonna be the best day of my (Oo-o-o-o-o-o)life
My li-i-i-i-i-ii-ife

On the way home, I told my daughter I liked the song and they sang it well, but I hoped that this wasn't the best day of her life. My son agreed. But my daughter didn't get it - -that I was hoping there'd be more momentous days for her ahead -- and I love that she didn't, because it just shows how in the moment kids are.

Besides, it was a pretty darn good day. My son was off today, so after I got back from taking my daughter to school, we walked to a local breakfast joint. It was a beautiful day and we had such a nice time together.

In a similar vein, the three of us walked to a local restaurant for dinner. We went to a fancier place than I normally take my kids to -- at my son's suggestion. Our waiter turned out to be someone I knew from the yoga community -- and also someone with whom I once went on a date. My kids were very curious about that, and it was fun to have that discussion with them.

After dinner, we played frisbee on the roof of the parking garage and then walked home and had cupcakes and ice cream for dessert.

All in all, a banner day:

I howled at the moon with friends
And then the sun came crashing in
Wo-oah-oah-oah-oah-oh-oh
Oah-oah-oah-oah-oah-oh-oh
But all the possibilities
No limits just epiphanies
Wo-oah-oah-oah-oah-oh-oh
Oah-oah-oah-oah-oah-oh-oh

I'm never gonna look back, woah
I'm never gonna give it up, noo
Just don't wake me now

Oo-o-o-o-o-o
This is gonna be the best day of my (Oo-o-o-o-o-o)life
My li-i-i-i-i-ii-ife
Oo-o-o-o-o-o
This is gonna be the best day of my (Oo-o-o-o-o-o)life
My li-i-i-i-i-ii-ife

I hear it calling outside my window
I feel it in my soul

The stars were burning so bright
The sun was out 'til midnight
I say we lose control

Oo-o-o-o-o-o
This is gonna be the best day of my (Oo-o-o-o-o-o)l-ii-fe
My li-i-i-i-i-ii-ife

I'm Into Something Good

What a fantastic weekend. Slept in on Saturday, got to snuggle in my bed with both kids -- so delicious -- got to eat bacon -- so delicious -- see an old friend at my son's triumphant soccer game, and then had friends over for dinner. Sunday I had a great yoga practice followed by some nice time with my kids and some time in my garden -- all on an absolutely gorgeous day.

All three of us were feeling really good. My daughter even played this song -- a song I didn't even know she knew:

Woke up this morning feelin' fine
There's something special on my mind
Last night I met a new girl in the neighborhood, whoa yeah
Something tells me I'm into something good
(Something tells me I'm into something)

She's the kind of girl who's not too shy
And I can tell I'm her kind of guy
She danced close to me like I hoped she would
(She danced with me like I hoped she would)
Something tells me I'm into something good
(Something tells me I'm into something)

We only danced for a minute or two
But then she stuck close to me the whole night through
Can I be fallin' in love?
(She's everything I've been dreamin' of)
She's everything I've been dreamin' of

I'm not falling in love at the moment, but that's ok, because my kids are everything I've dreamed of, and more. When it was close to bedtime, I realized that I hadn't yet done my 5 minutes of meditation, so I told my daughter I was going to do it while she brushed her teeth and then I'd read to her. She said no, wait, she wanted to sit with me. She listened while I told her about the objects on my altar. And we sat.

And even though my mind was supposed to be quiet, I kept hearing:

Something tells me I'm into something good...

World Waits For You

Last night I got some emails from someone I care about very much that made it apparent to me, as it has been before, that he was depressed. Not a little bit, but really out of touch with his goodness. I urged him, as I have in the past, to get some help.

I remember so well what it was like for me when I was depressed. I knew something was wrong for a few months before I sought help. I guess I thought I would start feeling better, and I don't think I knew or believed that anyone could help.

Then one day I got a postcard from my best friend, who knew I was overwhelmed. She didn't know the depths of where I was -- but she knew I was overwhelmed. Parent of two young kids and all that. The postcard said: "Ever wish you had another day in your week?" Meaning, you know, too much to do, too little time.

Only when I read it I thought: "No. I've never wished that. I can barely get through the seven days of the week that I have to get through now, I can't imagine if I had to deal with eight."

It was shortly after that moment that I called my doctor and made an appointment. My doctor prescribed antidepressants and sleep medication -- I wasn't sleeping either -- and made an appointment for me with a psychiatrist.

I loved my doctor, and I knew she wanted me to see the psychiatrist, that she thought it would help, so I went. I really hated the psychiatrist the first time I met her. I never really warmed to her too much -- she wasn't a particularly warm person -- but I came to appreciate that she was doing her job. She asked me all kinds of questions that felt like accusations: "Maybe you don't want to be at home with your kids. Maybe that's not for you. That's not for everyone." I remember that one well. I loved my kids desperately, but I didn't want to be with them. I didn't want to be anywhere.

And then the medication started to work. I started to be able to cope more with my daily life. I started to be able to be asked questions about who I was and who I was mad at and what it was going to take for me to feel better. It was a long, long time before I truly felt better, but the relief of being stabilized by the meds really saved me when I wasn't sure anything could, and that allowed me to do the work I needed to do to heal.

Some people aren't so lucky. This song is from the movie The Bridge, a documentary about the suicides of people who didn't get help:

When the world wants right and wrong
Could you break me the news
If i asked you to lie
Would you tell me the truth

In this darkest hour
A brave face will break soon
The world waits for you
The world waits for you
Could you carry me through

It's hard to wake up
Fateful hands that we find
Promises bogged down
Just chasms to climb

In this darkest hour
A brave face will break soon
The world waits for you
The world waits for you
Could you carry me through
Find strength from the words
Of those that went before
Take what you need
But leave even more

It's hard for me when the people I love are depressed. I'm very familiar with the feeling, that's for sure. My parents both suffer from it. My cousins too. And there's not much I can do. Except shine my light, and try to be there for them when theirs grow dangerously dim.

The trick, as I've learned, is I need to stay focused on myself. My own path. My own healing. I can't do anyone else's...

Lust for Life

I had a great yoga practice this morning. It feels so different than it did before last weekend's workshop. I feel different, too. Better. Lighter.

I had so much fun teaching my yoga class today at noon. Sharing what I learned. But after work today -- the last few weeks I've been doing the 7 miler to picnic point and back on Tuesdays -- I wasn't sure I wanted to run. The beauty of not being in training for a particular race is that I have the freedom and flexibility to listen to my body and make a decision about whether I want to run. A yoga teacher once told me that it's important to know if your body is saying no or your mind, since sometimes the mind is the culprit.

I finally decided to go, and in the end, I was glad I did.

Particularly when this song came on:

I've got a lust for life (oooh)
Got a lust for life (oooh)
Oh, a lust for life (oooh)
Oh, a lust for life (oooh)
A lust for life (oooh)
I got a lust for life (oooh)
Got a lust for life

Yes my friends, I do have a lust for life. Always have, but it was buried under some hard stuff for what feels like a long time. Might be too early to say, but it feels like it's back, and maybe even bigger than ever...

All I Need

This past weekend, I seemed to get a lot of advice about my lovelife. Specifically, a number of people, from some of my friends to a woman I don't know who was also at the yoga weekend, have strong feelings about an upcoming trip I have planned to the East Coast.

Here's the thing. I'm not the only one who fell in love with the man who moved from New England to Wisconsin nearly three years ago. My kids did too. And when he decided to move back, it was my kids who were most accepting of his decision. They really only wanted to know one thing -- well, in my daughter's case two things -- when they were going to see him again, and whether he still loved them (respectively).

One of the things that really worked for the four of us was going on adventures together. Camping, biking, climbing, hiking. And ever since he decided to move back, he's been talking about how much fun it would be if we came out there to visit.

So this winter, when we were headed toward reconciliation, I booked three tickets to Maine and a campsite in Acadia in August. What can I say? I'm an optimist. I like to travel. I love my kids. And, well, yeah. I love the man too.

Now that it is clear to both of us that things aren't lining up for a romantic partnership, I get why it doesn't seem to some people to be a super wise move for us to still go on the trip.

But we're going. And I know we're going to have a great time. And it'll be hard, yeah, to be all together and then go back to being separate again, because we all really like being together. But that's just the way it is.

In the meantime, after months of being uncomfortable with the amount of time I've been grieving, I've decided I'm just going to be ok with it lasting as long as it lasts. Because I really get why it's so big. For anyone who watches/watched Grey's Anatomy, it's a Derek and Meredith kind of love, and it's the kind of love that my new favorite hottie singer croons about in this song:

Here it comes it's all blowing in tonight
I woke up this morning to a blood red sky
They're burning on the bridge turning off the lights
We're on the run I can see it in your eyes
If nothing is safe then I don't understand
You call me your boy but I'm trying to be the man
One more day and it's all slipping with the sand
You touch my lips and grab the back of my hand
The back of my hand

Guess we both know we're in over our heads
We got nowhere to go and no home that's left
The water is rising on a river turning red
It all might be OK or we might be dead
If everything we've got is slipping away
I meant what I said when I said until my dying day
I'm holding on to you, holding on to me
Maybe it's all gone black but you're all I see
You're all I see

The walls are shaking, I hear them sound the alarm
Glass is breaking so don't let go of my arm
Grab your bags and a picture of where we met
All that we'll leave behind and all that's left
If everything we've got is blowing away
We've got a rock and a rock till our dying day
I'm holding on to you, holding on to me
Maybe it's all we got but it's all I need
You're all I need

And if all we've got, is what no one can break,
I know I love you, if that's all we can take,
the tears are coming down, they're mixing with the rain,
I know I love you, if that's all we can take.

A pool is running for miles on the concrete ground
We're eight feet deep and the rain is still coming down
The TV's playing it all out of town
We're grabbing at the fray for something that won't drown...

But what I've learned over the past year and change is that sometimes we have to let go of even the big loves. It's harder. It's hard as hell sometimes. But it is sometimes necessary, as it is in this case for me, and it feels more and more possible every day...

Peaceful, Easy Feeling

I'm just back from an inspiring weekend with an amazing yoga teacher, Zoe Mai. I'm not going to go into a lot of detail here, but things began to shift for me in the workshop. And one of the things that shifted was any illusion I had that I know what the rest of my life looks like or how to get the things I want (or even what I want). I'm ready to turn it over in a different way. To commit to the practice as one part of the path to my own integration and wholeness.

To ask for what I want in my life: Peace. Love. Comfort. Belonging. Joy. Service. Connection. Spirit. Passion. Adventure.

Without specifying who or what or when I need those things, or how.

Which leaves me with a greater sense of peace and a song in my head:

I like the way your sparkling earrings lay,
Against your skin, it's so brown.
And I wanna sleep with you in the desert tonight
With a billion stars all around.

'Cause I got a peaceful easy feeling,
And I know you won't let me down
'cause I'm already standing on the ground.

That's right, The Eagles. How can you beat this vintage video from 1973, when yours truly was 2 years old?

And I found out a long time ago
What a woman can do to your soul.
Oh, but she can't take you anyway,
You don't already know how to go.

And I got a peaceful easy feeling,
And I know you won't let me down
'cause I'm already standing on the ground.

I get this feeling I may know you as a lover and a friend.
But this voice keeps whispering in my other ear,
Tells me I may never see you again.

'cause I get a peaceful easy feeling
And I know you won't let me down
'cause I'm already standing...
I'm already standing...
Yes, I'm already standing on the ground
Oh, oh