Gonna Be Some Changes Made

The national news right now is deeply upsetting, and sometimes it can make me feel powerless. I was feeling down about all of the injustices being rendered by our new president when I was leaving work, but it cheered me hugely to see a group of young (white) students on library mall with a boom box and signs that read:

"Fuck White Supremacy!"

Right on! It's so good to see these pockets of resistance.

Then I went to yoga, where the teacher talked about how it's all of our jobs to do what we do, even if we don't do it that well. That as soon as we try to be someone else, the net gain to the universe is lower. That we all have a key that opens a door, and it's different from our neighbor's keys, and that's a good thing, especially when we're not trying to use our key in their door.

I thought about the implications of this for my own life. I think sometimes it takes me a while to realize that I'm trying to put my key into someone else's door, which can result in a lot of frustration.

I heard this song on the way home from class, and I'm not sure exactly what it's about, but I think it's about the need for tolerance and for being yourself:

Man was a knife expert
Kinda of a Jim Bowie type,
Swaggerin', blusterin', 'coon skin
I said, "You're not serious, right?"

Then I saw him grab my friend by the hair
And I guess I should have prayed
As he dragged him around, I said to myself,
"There's gonna be some changes made"

(Gonna be some changes made)

Girl I knew and loved alone twenty years from afar
With a finger to her lips she led me out to see the stars
She led me down to the gritty lake and in it we did wade
She took my hand and put it there, gonna be some changes made

(Gonna be)

Gonna
Be some
Changes made
Gonna be some changes made!

(Gonna be some changes made)

[Chorus]
Gonna be some changes, changes made
Can't keep on doing what I've been doing these days
Look in the mirror I see a clown's face
Gotta take it off, gotta get myself straight

Gonna be some changes, some changes made
Can't keep on doing what I've been doing these days
Better figure out something
Things are looking grave
Gonna be some changes, changes, changes made...

You Light Up My Life

I rode my bike today - it was cold, it was a little icy -- but despite the discomforts in the winter it is still my preferred mode of transportation.

It's a little more limiting at night, though -- so I usually don't stay out late in the winter when I'm on my bike.

Today I had a bodywork appointment that ended close to 6pm, so I wound up riding home in the dark. I went to turn on the lights on my bike, and the front light was dead. Time to recharge it -- but I couldn't do anything about that until I got home.

So I turned the back light on and headed home, taking the bike path. I stayed on my side of the path but I still got some unneeded commentary from another cyclist who felt the need to tell me that I needed a light. No shit buddy. Thanks for the PSA.

Then I turned off the path and up a street. There's more ice on the sides so when I can I try to ride a little more in the middle -- and move when a car comes. So that's what I was doing when a car passed me. The man then went into his driveway and came out of his garage and over to the street to tell me something. I braced myself a little after the encounter on the bike path, but this man's commentary came from a completely different place:

"I love your bike light! I could see you from two blocks away!"

"Oh I'm so glad!" I called out in response. "Thank you for telling me."

And as I pedaled away, this classic began to play on the internal jukebox:

And you light up my life
You give me hope to carry on
You light up my days and fill my nights with song

It was such a great example of how powerful kindness is, and how much more welcome and useful it is than unsolicited advice directed at someone when we don't really know their situation. I vowed to focus more on the former, and to try to eliminate the latter from my interactions with fellow humans as much as possible.

Because I would way rather light up someone's evening than take them down a notch:

And you light up my life
You give me hope to carry on
You light up my days and fill my nights with song

As I sang along, I also, as I do every single day, gave thanks that the man who lights up my life is back in it for good:

It can't be wrong
When it feels so right
'Cause you.....you light up my life

Hello Stranger

I went to see Moonlight tonight at Sundance. I didn't know much about it, but I knew I needed to see it.

I wasn't wrong. As I watched this tale of a young boy growing up with a crackhead mother, and watched it get revealed that she had sexually abused him, and watched what that did to him -- the distance it created for him physically and emotionally from himself and others -- I saw the parallels to my own life. We didn't grow up in the same socioeconomic classes, which basically meant that there was much more cover for my parents than there was for his mother. People knew she was mistreating him. He didn't act like everything was great. But the repercussions were similar.

I also thought how, if my parents watched this movie, they wouldn't see the parallels. They would see something completely different from what they believe my childhood was like.

And when I watched as, once the young boy got older, he moved away from his mother, and then came to visit her at the rehab center which had become her home and place of work. When his mama saw him, she said the things that my parents haven't said and probably will never say:

"I done fucked it up. I done fucked it all up. I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I didn't protect you. I didn't treat you right. I'm sorry, and I hope you can forgive me."

Even more than that, she left space for her son to feel however he wanted to feel toward her:

"You don't have to forgive me. You don't have to love me. You don't have to keep visiting me. But you have to know that I love you, and I'm so very sorry I wasn't a better mama."

I sat in the theatre, watching that, and cried, knowing I am doing what I need to do for myself right now, knowing that I've always done that, and that my parents are doing and have always done the same thing. The two pictures just don't add up like they did in the movie.

There was one man who could break through the lead character's walls, and the scene when he is reunited with him is so beautiful!

This was the song playing in the background:

(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop)
Hello stranger
(Ooh) It seems so good to see you back again
How long has it been?
(Ooh it seems like a mighty long time)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Ooh) It seems like a mighty long time

Ohh, I'm I'm I'm I'm I'm so glad
(Ooh) You stopped by to say hello to me
Remember that's the way it used to be
Ooh, it seems like a mighty long time
Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby
Ooh, it seems like a mighty long time
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby) Ohh..
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby) Ahh yes I'm so glad
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby) You're here again
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
Ohh, If you're not gonna stay
(Ooh) Please don't tease me
Like you did before
Because I still love you so
(Ooh) Although
It seems like a mightly long time
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Ooh) It seems like a mighty long time
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby) Ohh,
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby) Ohh my my my my
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby) I'm so happy
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby) That you're here at last
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby)
(Shoo-Bop Shoo-Bop, my baby) Ohh...

And I felt a surge of gratitude for the man who managed to break down a lot of my walls, and after what seems like a mighty long time, is here again (or at least he was, and will be again soon)...

One of These Days

I lovvvvvvvvvvve my boyfriend. He's amazing in so many ways. One of those ways is that he knows a little something about everything, and a whole lot about a lot of things, including music. In a conversation with him last night, he called me erudite. Which is adorable, and maybe a little bit true, but he's a lot more so than me.

And then, as if to prove that my wealth of knowledge is as deep as his without even trying, I sang a bar from a Neil Young song he did not know or recognize:

One of these days,
I'm gonna sit down
and write a long letter
To all the good friends I've known
And I'm gonna try
And thank them all
for the good times together.
Though so apart we've grown.

Mind you, it is more difficult to recognize a bar of a song that I sing, but he hadn't even heard of it:

One of these days,
I'm gonna sit down
and write a long letter
To all the good friends I've known
One of these days,
one of these days,
one of these days,
And it won't be long, it won't be long.

And I'm gonna thank,
That old country fiddler
And all those rough boys
Who play that rock 'n' roll
I never tried to burn any bridges
Though I know I let some good things go.

One of these days,
I'm gonna sit down
and write a long letter
To all the good friends I've known
One of these days,
one of these days,
one of these days,
And it won't be long, it won't be long.

From down in L.A.
All the way to Nashville,
From New York City
To my Canadian prairie home
My friends are scattered
Like leaves from an old maple.
Some are weak, some are strong.

One of these days,
I'm gonna sit down
and write a long letter
To all the good friends I've known
One of these days,
one of these days,
one of these days,
And it won't be long, it won't be long.

Nope, Neil, it won't be long. It won't be long before I get to see this man that I love so much again. Just two months from today I'll be out East with him!

One of these days,
one of these days,
one of these days,
And it won't be long, it won't be long.

Separate Lives

This song started playing on the inner jukebox yesterday while I was working in the kitchen:

You called me from the room in your hotel
All full of romance for someone that you met
And telling me how sorry you were, leaving so soon
And that you miss me sometimes when you're alone in your room
Do I feel lonely too?

Specifically, the lyrics that came to me, which I then sang loudly and cried, were these:

You have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
We can't go on just holding on to time
Now that we're living separate lives

It feels a little ironic that although I lived a life separate from the love of my life for 2 1/2-3 1/2 years -- depending on how you count it -- I never used this song during that time to mark a single one of those days. Especially since I used to belt this number out about romantic relationships on a pretty routine basis in high school and college.

When it came to me yesterday, though, it was all about my parents:

Well I held on to let you go
And if you lost your love for me, well you never let it show
There was no way to compromise
So now we're living (living)
Separate lives

Ooh, it's so typical, love leads to isolation
So you build that wall (build that wall)
Yes, you build that wall (build that wall)
And you make it stronger

Well you have no right to ask me how I feel
You have no right to speak to me so kind
Some day I might (I might) find myself looking in your eyes
But for now, we'll go on living separate lives
Yes for now, we'll go on living separate lives
Separate lives

Yes for now, we will go on living separate lives, because it feels true in my heart that unless/until they  are willing to be real about what transpired and REALLY know how I feel, they have no right to ask...

Express Yourself

One of the many signs in the peaceful crowd

So. Many. People. Give a shit!

About a week ago, my daughter's friend's Mom texted me to see if we wanted to go on an adventure with them and head to Washington DC for the women's march by bus. It seemed a little crazy to me -- we'd spend both Friday night and Saturday night on a bus and just be there for the day on Saturday -- but it also sounded like an adventure for a worthy cause.

What put me over the edge in favor of going was my daughter's enthusiasm: Yes! She wanted to go. And when I thought about what it would be like for her, at 13, to be a part of such an historic event, I decided it would be worth the pain of sleeping sitting up for a couple of days.

That was the right call. It was entirely worth it. One of the coolest parts for me was to observe my teenager and her two teenage friends, none of whom complained ONCE in 33 hours on a bus. I complained, but they didn't. I could tell they knew they were part of something bigger than they were.

My young activist and me in our pussy hats

I don't suppose I'll know for a while what impact the March will have on her, but I can say that for me, it was extremely powerful to be one of thousands who poured into our Nation's Capitol from every state in the nation to say to our new president and the rest of the world: "Hell to the No! You will not treat women, minorities and people with disabilities with disrespect and get away with it. We will stand up for what we believe. We will not go quietly."

A bunch of celebs came to say the same thing, including one particular woman whose voice I have cherished since I was my daughter's age: Madonna. She led us in chants, including "We choose love!" and she sang Express Yourself for us (which I've already blogged about). I was so grateful to get to see, hear and sing along with such a powerful woman!

Another cool thing about being in Washington DC was that my daughter noticed how many black people there were everywhere we went. I told her that was one of my favorite things about DC, and big cities in general, especially when they have a sizable black middle class, which Madison sorely lacks.

As we walked from where the bus parked to the march, we saw signs in people's yard with quotes from my most beloved black person, the king of the peaceful protest, MLK Jr.

Seeing the sign pictured here reminded me that I was not just there for my daughter: I was there for me. I was there to say, with my body and with my footsteps: My body is sacred and so is every other girl and woman's body. You can't just touch it and use it for your own pleasure without consent. Something our new president needed to hear; something so many other people need to hear too, whether they will admit it or not.

From a very early age, the people who were supposed to take care of me and protect me instead violated and neglected me. When I emerged from my childhood, I couldn't stand for people to touch me, especially men, but not limited to men. I couldn't get massages. I winced at the doctor's office. I wondered what was wrong with me. I couldn't let my boyfriend touch me. I didn't want to touch him. I had a hard time with activities requiring mind body coordination, because my body was cut off from my mind, and I lived in my mind. I didn't breathe fully.

I've taken responsibility for finding my way back from this, but my parents haven't chosen to take responsibility for their part. That's their prerogative, but I will not be silent about the things that matter any longer. I was silent for a long, long time, and indeed, a part of me died during that silence. A big part. But I'm back now, the whole entire me, and I'm not ever going away again.

I'm gonna keep expressing myself, as my friends from NWA encourage us all to do:

Express Yourself...
Express Yourself...
Come on and do it...

Express Yourself...
Express Yourself...
Come on and do it...

Express Yourself...
From the heart.
Cause if you wanna start to move up the chart
Then expression is a big part of it.
You ain't efficient when you flow
You ain't swift, movin' like a tortoise.
Full of rigor mortis.
There's a little bit more to show
I got rhymes in my mind, and better like an embryo.
Or a lesson - all of 'em expression
And if you start fessin' -
I got a Smith and Wessun
For you.
I might ignore your record
Because it has no bottom.
I get loose in the summer. When in spring and autumn
It's Dre on the mic, gettin' physical.
Doin' the job
NWA is the lynch mob!
Yes, I'm a cob?
But you know you need this.
And the knowledge is growin'
Just like a fetus, or a tumor.
But here's the rumor:
Dre is in the neighborhood
And he's up to no good.
When I start expressin' myself,
Yella, slam it!
Cause If I stay funky like this I'm doin' damage.
Or I'm a be too hyped,
And need a straight jacket.
I got knowledge and other suckers lack it.
So, when you see Dre, a DJ on the mic,
Ask what it's like.
It's like we gettin' hype tonight.
Cause if I strike
It ain't for your good health.
But I won't strike if you just...

Express Yourself...
Express Yourself...
Come on and do it...

Express Yourself...
Express Yourself...
Come on and do it...

Express Yourself...
Come on and do it...
Come on and do it...
Come on and do it...
Come on and do it... [music fades]

It isn't easy. It often makes people uncomfortable. But it's SO important!

P.S. Check out this video from the Women's March of a song called I can't keep quiet. Nor can I!

She Wakes When She Dreams

I was looking forward to so many things about being with the New Englander again, but one of them was sleeping with him. He's so awesome to sleep with, and over the last few months, I've been struggling with getting a good night sleep, so I was extra excited to have his calm, warm body next to mine.

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night having had a dream. It didn't make me cry, like in the song we heard Lucero sing this morning:

She's crying herself to sleep every night
'til her eyes shut and find better times
She wakes when she dreams
Sleeps when she wakes

But it did wake me, and I was so grateful that the New Englander was there to hold me and say something along the lines of these Lucero lyrics:

Now sleep my sweet girl
And dream of better days

The rest of this song is also pretty dark, but lucky for me, I'm not just dreaming about better days, I'm LIVING them, WITH my man by my side:

Nothing it seems went according to plan
Who are we kidding, there was never a plan
We followed our instincts
In the worst kind of ways

Now sleep my sweet girl
And dream of better days

She sits at the bar, she smiles and she drinks
She talks the whole night
Never says what she means
She'll fight when she's drunk
We stay outta the way

Now sleep my sweet girl
And dream of better days

She wears a sorrow beauty can't hide
I pray she sheds it and sleep the whole night
She wakes when she dreams
Sleeps when she wakes

At least until he goes back to New England tomorrow. But that's ok. He'll be back for good by July.

So until then, I'll follow this advice:

Now sleep my sweet girl
And dream of better days

Knowing full well they will be here before I know it...

Electric Love

Waiting for my man at the Dane County Airport

I don't know if I've ever been more excited about a moment in my life as I was about seeing the New Englander again after two and a half years.

What I felt was mostly excitement, but I was also nervous.

That's ok, I told myself, just let yourself feel whatever you are feeling.

So I laid there, in front of the fireplace at the airport, feeling all the feels as I waited for him to come down the stairs.

And then I saw him. And the next thing I knew, his arms were around me, and mine around him, and it was the BEST feeling in the whole wide world.

It is what my friend Borns would call Electric Love:

Candy, she's sweet like candy in my veins
Baby, I'm dying for another taste

And every night my mind is running around her
Thunder's getting louder and louder

Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle
I can't let you go now that I got it
And all I need is to be struck by your electric love
Baby, your electric love
Electric love

Drown me
You make my heart beat like the rain
Surround me
Hold me deep beneath your waves

It felt sooooooooo good to be held that way again. So, so, so, so, so good:

Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle
I can't let you go now that I got it
And all I need is to be struck by your electric love
Baby, your electric love
Electric love

Rushing through me
Feel your energy rushing through me
Feel your energy rushing through me

I absolutely LOVED feeling his energy rushing through me again:

Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle
I can't let you go now that I got it
And all I need is to be struck by your electric love
Baby, your electric love
Baby, you're electric

And I am super grateful to be struck by his electric love...

The Power of Love

I heard this super cheesy oldie on my way to yoga tonight with my favorite yoga buddy:

The power of love is a curious thing
Make a one man weep, make another man sing
Change a hawk to a little white dove
More than a feeling that's the power of love

Tougher than diamonds, rich like cream
Stronger and harder than a bad girl's dream
Make a bad one good make a wrong one right
Power of love that keeps you home at night

You don't need money, don't take fame
Don't need no credit card to ride this train
It's strong and it's sudden and it's cruel sometimes
But it might just save your life
That's the power of love
That's the power of love

First time you feel it, it might make you sad
Next time you feel it it might make you mad
But you'll be glad baby when you've found
That's the power makes the world go'round

I almost changed the station, but I decided to just turn it up and sing along:

And it don't take money, don't take fame
Don't need no credit card to ride this train
It's strong and it's sudden it can be cruel sometimes
But it might just save your life

They say that all in love is fair
Yeah, but you don't care
But you'll know what to do
When it gets hold of you
And with a little help from above
You feel the power of love
You feel the power of love
Can you feel it?
Hmmm

And then at the end of class, after savasana, my friend kissed the side of my head.

Yes Huey, I thought. I can feel it. THAT's the power of love...

Million Reasons

I love me some Lady Gaga, mainly for two reasons:

1) She reminds me of Amy Winehouse, and

2) She spoke/sung out about sexual assault in a beautiful way that people heard at last year's Oscars.

But also, she writes some pretty beautiful songs, like this one:

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go
You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show
You're givin' me a million reasons
Give me a million reasons
Givin' me a million reasons
About a million reasons

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills
If you could find a dry way, I'd forever be still
But you're giving me a million reasons
Give me a million reasons
Givin' me a million reasons
About a million reasons

I bow down to pray
I try to make the worse seem better
Lord, show me the way
To cut through all his worn out leather
I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away
But baby, I just need one good one to stay

Head stuck in a cycle, I look off and I stare
It's like that I've stopped breathing, but completely aware
'Cause you've given me a million reasons
Give me a million reasons
Giving me a million reasons
About a million reasons

And if you say something that you might even mean
It's hard to even fathom which parts I should believe
'Cause you've given me a million reasons
Give me a million reasons
Givin' me a million reasons
About a million reasons

I bow down to pray
I try to make the worse seem better
Lord, show me the way
To cut through all his worn out leather
I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away
But baby, I just need one good one to stay

Aye-eee-ayeee-ay-ayyee
Oh, baby I'm bleedin', bleedin'
Aye-eee-ayeee-ay-ayyee
Can't you give me what I'm needin', needin'
Every heartbreak makes it hard to keep the faith
But baby, I just need one good one
Good one, good one, good one, good one, good one

When I bow down to pray
I try to make the worse seem better
Lord, show me the way
To cut through all his worn out leather

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away
But baby, I just need one good one, good one
Tell me that you'll be the good one, good one
Baby, I just need one good one to stay aye eee ayeee

I can definitely relate to this. When the New Englander came back into my life, I gotta admit, all the reasons he gave me to walk away came flooding back.

But once I let myself be vulnerable enough to listen to him, I realized he was giving me more than one good one to stay...

Shot at the Night

The song marking this day is a twofer of sorts. Don't worry, it's not another Fuel song, but it comes to you courtesy of the same coworker.

She sent me this video, and told me I had to watch it:

Once in a lifetime, the suffering of fools
To find our way home, to break in these bones
Once in a lifetime (Once in a lifetime)
Once in a lifetime

Give me a shot at the night
Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious
Give me a shot at the night
Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious

The Killers are awesome, and I was enjoying the video, when I got a text from my coworker asking me if I was watching it and commenting on what a powerful human emotion yearning is:

Once in a lifetime, we're breaking all the rules
To find that our home, has long been out grown
Draw me a life line, 'cause honey I got nothing to lose
Once in a lifetime (Once in a lifetime)
Once in a lifetime

Give me a shot at the night
Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious
Give me a shot at the night
Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious
Give me a shot at the night

Look at my reflection in the mirror
Underneath the power of the light
Give me a shot at the night
Give me a shot at the night
Give me a shot at the night
I feel like I'm losing the fight

Give me a shot at the night
Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious
Give me a shot at the night

Yep. And yearning is something I know more than a little something about. I yearned so hard for so long, and at the same time, tried not to, because I knew that wouldn't bring the New Englander back.

And it didn't. It was setting him free that did it. Goddamn cliche, right? But it's true.

And in a few short days, we are going to have a shot at six nights together, and a whole lot of moments, and I couldn't be happier about that:

Give me a shot at the night
Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious
Give me a shot at the night
Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious
Give me a shot at the night
Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious
Give me a shot at the night

Bad Day

My coworker is always singing to herself. Sometimes it's song she loves, and sometimes it is songs she can't stand that get stuck in her head.

Today's song was in the latter category:

Had a bad day again
She said I would not understand
She left a note and said "I'm sorry, I had a bad day again.
She spilled her coffee, broke her shoelace.
Smeared the lipstick on her face.
Slammed the door and said "I'm sorry, I had a bad day again."

And she swears there's nothing wrong
I hear her playing that same old song
She puts me off and puts me on

And had a bad day again
She said I would not understand
She left a note that said, "I'm sorry, I had a bad day again."

I was unfamiliar with song, and with the band Fuel. And I wouldn't have been disappointed to have remained ignorant of both.

I just hope this song doesn't get stuck in my head now...

New Hampshire

My New Hampshire loving man

Last night while I was working on my computer, I suddenly heard this song playing rather loudly:

When I die
Please bury me in New Hampshire
I really like the leaves

Don't be sad
I'd done my share of living
I think I have to leave

Eventually I figured out I had accidentally started up Spotify, and I continued listening because the song was beautiful, and because it spoke of a subject near and dear to my man: New Hampshire.

I texted him (knowing he is often out of cell service) to see if he'd ever heard this song. I figured he had, because his knowledge of music (like his knowledge of most things) is extensive. But it was new to him too:

Someday all the birds up in the sky will just die (oh well)
And the sun it will burn out (oh well)
And you and I will die (oh well)
Oh well ( 5x)

It's true. Someday we will all die. I remember early last year, I texted the New Englander about a dream I had about him dying.

I said:

"I hope I'm with you when you die, but if I'm not, I hope I at least know."

He texted back: "Oh sweetie. I don't think I was ready to hear that."

And I came back with: "Yeah well, that's part of loving someone and being loved. You're not always ready for what they've got for you."

And that sure was true for us.

Which makes me extra super much grateful that we're both ready for each other now, and that chances are a whole bunch better that I will, indeed be with him when he dies.

Whether or not it's in New Hampshire, I can't rightly say:

In the summer
Just dig me up and
Put me on the high line
I really like the breeze

After that just put me on a bus
Back to New Hampshire
I think I had to leave

Someday all the birds up in the sky will just die (oh well)
And the sun it will burn out (oh well)
You and I will die someday (oh well)
Oh well ( 5x)

What if all the birds up in the sky just died (oh well)
And the sun burns out (oh well)
You and I could die (oh well oh well)
Oh well
Oh well
Oh well

Somebody's Love

This song, heard on the radio this morning when the windchill was -15, is oh so appropriate for marking this day:

Oh when the winds they blow
You're gonna need somebody to know you
You're gonna need somebody's love to fall into

And do I ever have somebody's love to fall into!

For now, mostly for emotional support, often through my somebody calling me:

Oh when the leaves they fall
You're gonna need somebody to call you
You're gonna need somebody's arms to crawl into
To crawl into

But in just one week, I'm gonna get to crawl into my somebody's arms, and I can't wait!

Tonight I Wanna Cry

I guess it's not surprising that I woke up early this morning, triggered, but damnit, I wish all that trauma would just leave me in peace.

Of course, I know better than that. I know how it works. I know that in order to let something go, you first have to feel it, and it doesn't really matter how long ago something occurred, it'll stay in the body until it's felt and released.

Yesterday I got to go to PJ's yoga shala, which was a real treat. PJ is the best kind of teacher: He is a dedicated practitioner, he is faithfully passing on the teachings he has been given, he is loving, and he has a sense of humor.

He looked at me when I was in baddha konasana (seated with the soles of my feet together), and said: "I don't even know what to do with you in that pose! I don't even know where to start."

The old me would've felt shame and humiliation upon hearing that. I would've likely cried, maybe even have needed to leave the room for fear of being seen feeling so exposed. Because the old me, the one that had been traumatized but not yet experienced healing, would've assumed a bunch of things upon hearing that that were neither intended nor true:

1) There is something wrong with me because I can't do this right;
2) It's my fault that I can't do this right;
3)  I should be able to do this right;
4) This is just one more example of my less-thanness (yes, I made up that term)

Instead, yesterday when PJ said this, I laughed and told him I was pretty sure he could figure something out.

"Ok" he said, "I'll try!"

And try he did. He didn't get me very far into it, and my body wouldn't really cooperate with what he tried to encourage it to do.

Even a year or two ago, I might've felt frustrated in that moment, even if I were past feeling humiliated. But I didn't. I just silently acknowledged that my body has a good reason for holding on in my hips and inner thighs, and it's not quite ready to let go there. It will. When it's ready.

When I was out in Berkeley working with Peter Sanson, another amazing Ashtanga teacher, he noted the same tightness in my hips: "Why are you holding? So long holding!" And reminded me that a physical blockage like that is always accompanied by an emotional blockage.

Yep. I am aware.

At lunch at the end of the Berkeley retreat, I sat with a woman who told me that her hips and inner thighs also resisted the opening in baddha konasana, and then she left her husband, and almost immediately she could touch her knees and chest to the ground.

Not so for me -- mine goes back further -- is deeper than a marital wound.

Yesterday I recounted all this for my boyfriend, telling him that I thought when he comes back, I'll be able to work through this.

It won't be fun, for either of us, but that's just one of the many ways we are good together. Since early on, we've been able to help each other heal from our traumas.

Awake early this morning with that "something old" feeling (which is one way I refer to being triggered -- I can tell in my body when it is stirred up by something old), I pulled the picture of my four-year-old self that I keep on my bedside table into bed with me. And then I thought about my boyfriend, because I find him comforting.

What came up was a moment in our conversation yesterday where he said a couple of things I didn't understand, so I asked him to explain. He did so, lovingly, and the moment passed. This morning, as I recalled it, I could feel the heat of shame in my nostrils -- do you know that feeling? It's unmistakable for me.

I knew that it wasn't about him, or even me, in the present day. It was an old feeling, that originated with a man who was also very important to me but nowhere near as conscious or as loving, and I was nowhere near as whole: My father.

I let myself feel it: the shortness of breath, the heat. And then it passed. And I gave thanks that I feel safe enough in my relationship, that my body feels aafe enough, to allow for release. I know this will continue when he is here all the time, and that eventually, whatever's in those hips will feel safe enough to release too.

I googled songs about feeling humiliated for this post, and came up with this number from Keith Urban that kinda fit:

Alone in this house again tonight
I got the TV on, the sound turned down and a bottle of wine
There's pictures of you and I on the walls around me
The way that it was and could have been surrounds me
I'll never get over you walkin' away

I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control
But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain
To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain
From my eyes
Tonight I wanna cry

My father has never been the kind to let his feelings show, I'm pretty sure he had the same thought about never losing self control, and he certainly drank like crazy for years in an attempt to not feel the pain of his own developmental trauma.

Instead, he passed it on to me.

And now I'm saying no thanks, Dad. That's not mine. And I'm doing my best to feel what is mine, and let go of anything that no longer fits or serves me...

Used to Love Her

Captured: My kids loving, not killing each other

My kids and I went to visit my sister and her kids over the last couple of days, which was mostly delightful family time.

As a bonus, their cousins had gingerbread houses that they had not yet built; my kids had asked to do them this year but I'd neglected to purchase them. Their eldest cousin said my kids could make his, which I initially thought was a terrible idea.

My kids fight. A lot. Which makes me brace myself for that and think that things like making a gingerbread house together is a bad idea.

I'm happy to say, and you can see the photographic evidence to prove it, in this case, I was wrong. They had a delightful time doing it together.

On the way home in the car, my daughter was controlling the radio. She stopped on this song, during an intstrumental portion, and asked: "Is this a good song? I think it is."

Vintage G 'n R? Yes honey, it sho is:

I used to love her
But I had to kill her
I used to love her, Mm, yeah
But I had to kill her
I had to put her six feet under
And I can still hear her complain

I used to love her, Oo, yeah
But I had to kill her
I used to love her, Oo, yeah
But I had to kill her
I knew I'd miss her
So I had to keep her
She's buried right in my backyard
Oh yeah, Oo yeah, whoa, oh yeah

I used to love her
But I had to kill her
I used to love her, Mm, yeah
But I had to kill her
She bitched so much, She drove me nuts
And now I'm happier this way, yeah
Whoa, oh yeah

Love and Hate

Not feeling strong, but open, and unarmored

I rang in the New Year in a new way this year -- practicing yoga -- and not just any yoga, yoga led by one of my favorite teachers and accompanied by live musicians. The songs they sang that I was familiar with I have blogged about previously -- powerful, beautiful songs like Purple Rain and Hallelujah -- the latter brought out the cleansing tears.

People often ask me why I call yoga a "practice", and my teacher spoke about this last night. It made me think of an article I read in the New Yorker, in which the author notes that the word practice is meant to signal an ongoing, daily ritual in which one gains incremental expertise and wisdom over time. This is as good an explanation as I can imagine, and it's exactly why it's a practice. I just don't think that's the way a lot of people in the West think about it.

I started practicing Ashtanga yoga in earnest after the New Englander left. It was something I could pour myself into, and man, did I ever need something. Like a lot of the pain that his departure catalyzed, this need to devote myself to something ended up teaching me things I never could have learned if the depth of my need hadn't been so great.

Practicing Ashtanga allows me to be committed to showing up for myself every day. It keeps my body strong and healthy -- well, mostly healthy -- I'm having more struggles than normal in that category at the moment -- and it keeps my emotions right-sized. I don't overreact to things because of underlying and often old emotion when I've practiced because by showing up on my mat every day, I am dealing with the underlying emotion on a daily basis. Not stuffing it or numbing it so that it comes out in a outburst.

So today, despite feeling under the weather, I'm about to get up and practice Ashtanga. Inviting whatever is hampering my immune system to make itself known. Letting myself feel it. Just as I did in that beautiful class last night.

I heard this song for the first time on my way home from yoga last night (or early this morning):

Standing now
Calling all the people here to see the show
Calling for my demons now to let me go
I need something, give me something wonderful

I believe
She won't take me somewhere I'm not supposed to be
You can't steal the things that god has given me
No more pain and no more shame and misery

You can't take me down
You can't break me down
You can't take me down

You can't take me down
You can't break me down
You can't take me down

Love and hate
How much more are we supposed to tolerate
Can't you see there's more to me than my mistakes
Sometimes I get this feeling - makes me hesitate

I believe
She won't take me somewhere I'm not supposed to be
You can't steal the things that god has given me
No more pain and no more shame and misery

You can't take me down
You can't break me down
You can't take me down

You can't break me down
You can't take me down
You can't break me down

I can see a place of trouble
And I'm on the verge
For the love of everybody
I did something wrong

Now I feel some days of trouble
In the hospital
For the love of everybody
But behind a wall

Standing now
Calling all the people here to see the show
Calling for my demons now to let me go
I need something, give me something wonderful

And I like it to mark this first day of 2017 for a few reasons:

1) It's new (to me), and it's a brand new year;

2) The intention that I set in class last night was to choose love, and the title of this song reminds me of the importance of that choice;

3) It's a song about the resilience of the human spirit, and that, more than anything else, is what I'm celebrating as we welcome a new year. Without it, I might not be here at all, and for sure I wouldn't be able to wholeheartedly embrace the path of interdependence with my love that lies ahead this year, and neither would he;

4) Those last couple of lines feel like an appropriate mantra for me right now:

Calling for my demons now to let me go
I need something, give me something wonderful

May 2017 be the year that my demons continue to let me go -- I already know it is the year that I get what I need - an amazing partner in my day-to-day life -- and I know it will be wonderful...