Border Line

The view from above the clouds between Wisco and Colorado

It feels like I'm on the road more than I'm home these days, which makes it hard to stay grounded.

My latest trip took me to Denver to visit a successful network of charter schools and a couple of friends who live in the area, followed by a weekend in Boulder with some other friends.

The last time I was in Colorado, I was with my last boyfriend. As I recall, we weren't at an easy place in our relationship, but we connected once we were in the mountains, likely because the man I was dating was much more able to be present in that topography.

The night before I left on this trip, I had a bad dream about him. He was wearing a mask, and I told him I could see that he was, and would he please take it off, and he snapped at me. I felt sad when I woke up, and I felt sad on the plane, too. This letting go process sure has a lot of layers.

Fire trail, Chautauqua, Boulder

On Saturday morning as I stood at the top of my mat in my friends' house in Boulder, I felt a rush of emotion accompanied by this thought: "But I want to play in the mountains too!" and a bunch of tears.

I decided to go for a trail run. As I headed up the path, I felt glad to be there under such a magnificent blue sky, and glad to be able to, at least in some form, play in the mountains, but I also missed my playmate.

I stopped along the way a few times to continue to release the sadness that I felt, which was pretty cathartic. I tried to tell the universe that I'd appreciate it if it would send me another playmate, but not surprisingly, there was no immediate response.

On the way home on the plane, I read an article in the New Yorker about a young British artist who is described as being like Tom Waits, and I was intrigued. His name is even Archy (though he spells it in kind of a funny way).

This song seemed to sing some of the pain I got in touch with on my journey to the mountains:

Skunk Canyon, Boulder

You know I tried so hard
My feelings just can’t discard
The way in which I fell into
Your heart was never what I once knew
Lately my skull has kept
Dividing lines deep set and paved
Two paths too wander through to depart
And sever desires to pursue

And the soul chokes
To cause the tide
To enforce divide
This whole devotion has morphed in time
I’ll escort her mind to solve my crimes
Reach slow motion to con the mind

See here I trace my steps
To where my senses left
And rain had turned my sense to mush
This slowly seeping straight through the crust
Now let these stains of gunk slip down
To where my head once sunk and drowned
Just await for a while to see
My body has merged to the deep krule sea

But my soul floats
Adrift thoughtless minds, distorted lines
The soul is broken down, borderlines
To cause the tide, to enforce divide
This whole devotion has morphed in time

I'll say. And the lines, they're drawn:

So scorn divine and mourn the pride
The cold has spoken, draw the line

Drunken Lullabies

For the last several weeks, whenever I'm driving in my car, I've been listening to Angela's Ashes on CD. It's a book I've had on my bookshelf for years, but just hadn't gotten around to reading it.

I'm glad I waited so that the author, Frank McCourt, could read it to me in his Irish accent -- I'm loving his graphic and at once depressing and uplifting recounting of his impoverished Irish childhood.

Talk about finding love in a hopeless place -- the book bears witness to the agony of having a drunk father:

Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Five hundred years like Gelignite
Have blown us all to hell
What savior rests while on his cross we die
Forgotten freedom burns
Has the Shepard led his lambs astray
to the bigot and the gun

Must it take a life for hateful eyes
To glisten once again
Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess
Singin' drunken lullabies

...who does indeed sing drunken lullabies, but also captures the humanity of said father (and the rest of the family) in a really lovely way.

Every time I listen to it, I feel both grateful for what I have and what I'm able to offer my children, and for books' capability of transporting us to a different time and place and teaching us lessons through the power of storytelling...

We Found Love

My wingman for my return to wildness

 I spent the weekend in our nation's capital, a city I always enjoy, but never before quite like I did this time!

I went out there for a conference for work, and Friday night I had a working dinner to go to in the evening. But I had Saturday night free from 5pm on, so I made a plan to go to a yoga class at a studio I visited last time I was in town and then meet up with a friend for dinner.

I left the choice of restaurant in his hands and as it turned out, that meant we didn't have a plan. We wandered the streets, and wound up at a tapas place he'd heard about but never tried. It was packed and it seemed to take forever to get a seat and get our food, but I was happy to be in such a hip and happening place, so I didn't mind too much.

After dinner, my friend talked me into going dancing at a little dive bar in Columbia Heights. The music was great, with some songs from my dancing heyday (which is now nearly 20 years ago) and some from more current artists, like this number from Rihanna:

We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place

My friend and I took full advantage of the dance floor, and it felt good to let go in a way I haven't for a while:

Shine a light through an open door
Love and life I will divide
Turn away cause I need you more
Feel the heartbeat in my mind

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny
But I've gotta let it go

And yes, the night included a couple of connections with boys, which a single girl like me could enjoy without guilt:

We found love in a hopeless place

Nice garland! (acquired on dance floor)

We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place
We found love in a hopeless place

But love? Nope. Not likely on a DC dance floor, especially not the love I'm looking for in my life. So it was back to the hotel for me, resting up as much as I could for the conference the next day.

It was a long day of traveling home today with all the crazy weather, and I was reminded of all the reasons I usually choose kombucha over alcohol and prioritize sleep over dancing.

But for me, touching that space, unleashing that wild girl, is kind of like working a muscle you don't work very much really hard one day -- you always feel it the next day, and it hurts a little, but more than that, the twinge reminds you of your strength and vitality...

Desire

This song has been playing in my head the past couple of days, ever since I started pondering what it means for me to move into a space where I can miss my ex without feeling bad about it. I asked myself what it is I miss, and part of it is him. The person with whom I fell in love and all the reasons I did. And that's ok. I still miss my first love, too. I still miss things about him now, 23 years after we dated. It doesn't get me down, though, it's even sort of semi-pleasant.

And now to what inspired the song:

Yeah
Lover, I'm on the street
Gonna go where the bright lights
And the big city meet
With a red guitar, on fire

Desire

Yes, the other thing I really miss about my last boyfriend and our relationship is being desired and desiring someone. Maybe because that really was my first relationship where desire got separated from the icky stuff it was attached to when I was a young girl, so I could finally just enjoy it:

She's a candle burning in my room
Yeah I'm like the needle, needle and spoon
Over the counter with a shotgun
Pretty soon everybody got one
I'm the fever when I'm beside her

Desire
Desire
Lady

And the fever, getting higher
Desire
Desire
Burning
Burning

And enjoy it I did. With any luck, it won't be too long before I'm in a relationship where I can enjoy it again. God knows after my last relationship, I'm not going to settle for anything less than burning desire in my next one...

Don't Dream It's Over

I've been marveling lately at how much more freedom I feel in my life, and while doing so today, this song floated into my head:

There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me

Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over...

When the man I'd had my heart, mind, body and soul set on for three years moved away this summer, I couldn't, wouldn't dream it was over, and yet, another part of me knew it was. I hated succumbing to the grief. I did not want to let him go. But I also knew instinctually that I would grow if I did, that I'd become more fully the person I was always meant to be, if I could just stop putting up so much resistance.

And I'm proud to say I have. Put up less resistance, grown, and in the process gained more freedom than I've ever known before. I'm just not held back by the things that used to bog me down -- fear about money, the need to keep my family at arm's length, fear about being alone, fear that if I didn't look a certain way or weigh a certain amount, I wouldn't be loved -- that's all gone, or mostly gone, thanks to just letting go of what was in my way.

It's not all sunshine and roses. I also had to let go of something and someone I dearly loved. I've spent a lot of time alone. I've run a lot of miles. I've practiced a lot of yoga. I've been to a lot of therapy and bodywork appointments. But it's working:

Now I'm walking again to the beat of a drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart
Only the shadows ahead barely clearing the roof
Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief

I do indeed know the feeling of liberation and relief. And I know loss of a different magnitude than I've experienced in the past. I know this will make me a better mother, a better friend, a better yoga teacher -- maybe it'll even help me become the writer I've always known I am.

I don't know what's next for me. But I know it's gonna be good...

Gives You Hell

This morning I got a new garage door opener installed since the old one recently broke. I was lucky enough to have it break before my home warranty was up, so I only had to pay $85 of the $385 bill, which was pretty sweet. Plus, it coincided with my garage getting cleaned (with the help of my kids) and organized (with the help of my Dad and brother-in-law), which means I now have a two-car garage that actually has space for two cars and two working garage door openers. Can you say making space for a partner? Oh yeah.

For some reason all day today, these words from this song have been going through my head:

And truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying

Only on my internal recording, the second line is: And truth be told I love you.

I think I know why. You see, I sat on my meditation cushion today and had a little discussion with the universe about where I am, where I've been and where I'm going. And as I worked my way through those places in terms of my relationships, I felt something shift.

Now the shift wasn't all the sadness dissipating, mind you, although that sure would be nice. (I know, it'll happen when it happens.) It was just a little more space for the possibility or maybe inevitability that my last boyfriend and I weren't meant to be one another's forever partners. Making space for this doesn't mean I don't miss him, it means I can miss him and feel ok about it. Not just tell myself I feel ok about it, but really feel ok about it.

I remember once while we were dating, he told me that he felt it wasn't fair -- that in love he has always had to give something up. He lamented that he couldn't have it all (he was referring to his mountains and the girl/woman of his dreams).

I was CRUSHED when he said that. Just crushed. How could I not be enough? How could we not be enough?

Tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself
Yeah, where did it all go wrong?
But the list goes on and on

But maybe the answer is, I am  enough, but I'm not right for him. And by the same token, maybe he is enough, but just not for me:

Truth be told I miss you
And truth be told I'm lying

Yep, truth be told I'd be lying if I didn't admit that he didn't have all the qualities I'm looking for in a husband. And truth be told, I did lie about that when we were together, to myself and to him.

But that's all behind me now, and as hard as it has been to deal with this loss, I am also grateful. Grateful that I am here, in this beautiful house, with these beautiful kids, making space, literally and figuratively, for the man that is most things I want and everything I need...

No More Lonely Nights

This afternoon the kids and I decided to go to the Christmas tree farm and get a tree. The weather was relatively mild, there was a bit of snow on the ground, and we were all excited and proud of ourselves for getting it together earlier than we usually do in the tree department.

We had such a nice time picking one out, cutting it down, and taking it home to decorate it. We all got along, and for the first time, it didn't feel like anything was missing. It felt like it was enough that the three of us were getting our tree together.

On the way home, there was some kind of old countdown on the radio, and this song from Paul McCartney struck me and stayed in my head for hours afterward:

No more lonely nights
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there

May I never miss the thrill of being near you
And if it takes a couple of years
To turn your tears to laughter
I will do what I feel to be right

No more lonely nights
Never be another
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there
And I won't go away until you tell me so
No I'll never go away

Yes I know what I feel to be right
No more lonely nights
Never be another
No more lonely nights
You're my guiding light
Day or night I'm always there
And I won't go away until you tell me so
No I'll never go away
I won't go away until you tell me so
No I'll never go away
No more lonely nights, no no...

Someday I know that my nights will again be filled in a different, delicious way, but for now, I am content to have the light that shines from within and the light of my children to light up my nights.

That, and for the next few weeks, our beautiful Christmas tree...