Magic Man

On my way to yoga tonight, I heard this song:

Cold late night so long ago
When I was not so strong you know
A pretty man came to me
Never seen eyes so blue
I could not run away
It seemed we'd seen each other in a dream
It seemed like he knew me
He looked right through me
"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile
"You don't have to love me yet
Let's get high awhile
But try to understand
Try to understand
Try try try to understand
I'm a magic man."

I've always been a sucker for Heart. They are super cheesy, but they own it, and I respect that.

I'm not super sure what this song means, exactly:

Winter nights we sang in tune
Played inside the months of moon
Never think of never
Let this spell last forever
Summer over passed to fall
Tried to realized it all
Mama says she's a worried
Growing up in a hurry

"Come on home, girl" mama cried on the phone
"Too soon to lose my baby yet my girl should be at home!"
"But try to understand, try to understand
Try try try to understand
He's a magic man, mama
He's a magic man"

But I can say that when I heard it, I thought, yep, he's a magic man alright. And now he's my magic man. Again. Well, sort of again, but this time, for reals...

Nothin' At All

"You're not fat but you kinda look fat in that coat"

This day is almost officially over, and my feelings about that, like the day itself, are mixed.

Normally, when my alarm goes off on Sunday mornings, even though it's early (between 6:30am and 7:00am), I'm excited to get up to go to my yoga practice. This morning, not so much.

I had a bunch of really upsetting dreams last night, and I woke up feeling like I'd been run over by a truck. I got out my dream journal, wrote down what I could remember, and then forced myself to swing my feet over the side of the bed. Numerous parts of my body hurt. My knee, which has been hurting for a few weeks now, but also weird things, like my hands, forearms and wrists, from climbing yesterday.

I sat there for a few minutes trying to decide whether to go or not. Again, super unusual for me, and I almost decided to stay home just because it's so rare for me to feel like that.

But then I remembered how my day yesterday got more difficult as it went on, and yesterday was my day off from practicing, so I forced myself out the door. I knew today would be challenging given that 1) we had to get the house cleaned before we left for skiing, 2) I needed to take both kids skiing today and they're not super compatible skiers.

It's a good thing I got my practice in -- skiing went as predicted but also had some twists -- such as when my daughter and I went to get on the fast chair lift and I didn't realize in time that there was no seat on the one I "sat" down on and that subsequently whisked me away. By the time the dude managed to stop the lift I was at least six feet off the ground. I tried to convince him to let me ride it up the mountain sitting on the bar but he wasn't having it. And so, I jumped, with my ski boots on, six feet off a chair lift and onto the lift attendant. Amazingly, neither one of us got hurt, but it was quite an experience.

I enjoyed being out there, I really did, but all day I felt pulled between my son and my daughter. At a certain point, when I realized I couldn't win because both were headed off to different chair lifts and both were mad if I didn't come with them, I just sat down at the bonfire in between the two chair lifts, took off my boots, warmed up my feet, took the selfie above (complete with a quote from my daughter) and sang along to the familiar song that was playing (I was alone at said bonfire):

One of the day's highlights: a gorgeous sunset

I would walk home every evening
Through the pyramids of light
I would feed myself on silence
Wash it down with empty nights

Then your innocent distractions
Hit me so hard
My emotional reaction
Caught me off guard

It was nothing at all
Like anything I had felt before
And it was nothing at all
Like I thought no it's so much more
No one else has ever made
Me feel this way
When I asked you how you did it
You just say
It was nothing at all

Now I walk home every evening
And my feet are quick to move
Cause I know my destination
Is a warm and waiting you
From our first communication
It was clear
Any thought of moderation
Would soon disappear

It was nothing at all
Like anything I had felt before
And it was nothing at all
Like I thought no, it's so much more
No one else has ever made
Me feel this way
when I asked you how you did it
You just say
It was nothing at all

Gotta love Heart. And heart...

I'll Be Your Mirror

I've worked really hard over the years to heal, to come back into my body, to learn to tune in to what I'm feeling, to open my heart... And I'm happy to say it feels like it is finally paying off. Because in the midst of some not awesome external factors over which I have no control, I was able, during the time my love was visiting, to get out of my head and feel. And when I did that, I realized I felt great in his presence. More grounded, more comfortable in the world, more at peace, more loved. So that's what I'm paying attention to -- how it feels to be together -- not whether it fits my master plan.

I came across this quote which perfectly sums up the feeling I'm affirming here:

"More valuable than the treasures of the storehouse are the treasures of the body, and the treasures of the heart are the most valuable of all." Nichiren, 13th Century Japan.

Here we are soaking up some spring sun, Wisco-style

I love that this is something that has always been true, and I love that I finally understand and am capable of availing myself of the treasures of the heart with a man. I've had it down with the kids from day 1, but with a man, it has taken considerably longer.

Shortly before his visit, I read the modern love column about this Lou Reed song:

I'll be your mirror, reflect what you are
In case you don't know, I'll be the wind
The rain and the sunset
The light on your door to show that you're home

I'd never heard the song before, but it so beautifully expresses much of what is so great about being in love. I chose this song to mark this day because we got to experience just what Lou is crooning about here during his visit, from me helping him see and feel his goodness:

When you think the night has seen your mind
That inside you're twisted and unkind
Let me stand to show that you are blind
Please put down your hands 'cause I see you

...to him helping me see and feel my beauty:

I find it hard to believe
You don't know the beauty that you are
But if you don't let me be your eyes
A hand in your darkness, so you won't be afraid

When you think the night has seen your mind
That inside you're twisted and unkind
Let me stand to show that you are blind
Please put down your hands 'cause I see you

I'll be your mirror

Yes, this visit affirmed that I want him to be my mirror. I love what he allows me to see...

Church (Part of Someone)

Mentally and physically exhausted at the end of the day today -- having run 7.5 miles, practiced some yoga, taught an Ashtanga class, and spent 5 hours working on a consulting project -- I settled in for a little Hulu plus viewing on my laptop.

I ended up watching a particularly moving episode of Parenthood, dealing as it did with tough issues like separation and divorce, questions of faith, babies, promises, and family.

Especially poignant for me was this song, circa 1970 (when my mother was pregnant with me), which played close to the end of the episode:

You see, it's my thing
To be part of someone
As a true friend is part of me
You know that there's so much
Oh, little girl, we've got to tell each other
About the whole world
And most especially one another, oh yeah, all right
And you know, and you know?

And it's hard, yes it is
It's hard, yes it is
And I wonder
I wonder could it be a dream?
And you know that the self made man, babe
Is truly shallow
He knows he's no one
But who he wants to be
So while you still sing, baby
You got to tell me, baby
Is it your thing to be part of anyone?
Anyone, anyone

Often when I was a kid, I didn't feel part of anyone. I wanted to -- I think we all at least start out in this world craving that feeling -- but most of the time I didn't. Over time, I stopped believing that it was possible for me, and instead, lived life from the relative safety of staying in my head. If it's not my thing to truly be part of anyone, my subconscious seemed to reason, I can't be hurt if I'm not.

And it worked pretty well for a lot of years, but then my son was born, and my world was blown wide open: If this is what it feels like to be part of someone, this is exactly what I want for myself!

Yes, the love I felt (and still feel) for that baby (and the one that followed three years later) have been the catalysts I needed to do the very difficult work of coming back into my body, of healing, of reuniting my head and my heart, and of saying yes to being part of someone.

Children are such an incredible gift. It's true that parenting them isn't always easy:

And it's hard, yes it is
It's hard, yes it is

But I've never doubted for a second that it's worth it. Without my kids, I can't imagine that I'd have made as much progress with reconciling all the various parts of myself. And that might've meant missing out on the feeling I have today, that I'm part of someone, and creating a home where I believe my children feel they are part of someone too. I can't ask for anything more than that, except maybe a partner to share it with...