Saturday, March 22, 2014


Peeking my head above water briefly to say: there are a lot of things happening and I can almost manage to do them all. In order to accomplish everything, I've been giving my sleep-hours away to the Universe; someone else can use them, I just don't have time. I've been laughing a lot, because laughter drains the tub a bit. Thankfully, I've got a love who wraps me in joy and humor on the double when I'm stressed out. When that doesn't work, he wraps me in hugs. That always works.

I've been taking juggling lessons, dance lessons, get-up-and-hop-to-it lessons. I've been stacking, combing, stirring and setting down. Our schedule and to-do lists have lit their overloaded circuits on fire, and it's a good thing, even if it means the floors don't get swept quite as often. Because there's so much to do, there's much to notice. Nothing quite like Busy to make you squeeze a moment for all it's worth. Madness makes the quiet minutes poignant, slower; fresh dewdrops on the dawn of another busy day. Here we go, Love, I'm ready because you are. That look you give me will get me through the day.

I've been trying to figure out how to administrate life, to organize, to get done, all the while taking pauses to enjoy the things that can't be scheduled or re-scheduled: Darling Six's laughs and stories, Dog's admiring glances and longings to be nose-to-shin, the neverending need I have to be close to my love, to hear his thoughts on the day. Even though there's laundry to fold and hours to spend tasking, these little pieces make it all worthwhile. Those pieces aren't little at all, either, they are in fact the driving force for much of our lives. I love you, so I will accomplish. I love our family, so I will do. I love who we are together, so I will put my stuff down and snuggle you to sleep. Then I'll stay up late, find those hours I couldn't find earlier, because I want your life to be good.

Looking ahead, the race and the rush don't show any signs of stopping. But, as we walk (or run), we learn to find a balance between the musts & pauses, lists & freeform moments.

It is a good thing, learning to swim like this.

Lauren Bacall & Leslie Bogart © Phil Stern

Penguin Cafe Orchestra: Perpetuum Mobile
Lord Huron: She Lit a Fire, Time to Run, Brother

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

love, less cryptically

Pre-breakfast, pre-anything, I feel inspired to tell you: I am in love. Sure, I hinted at it last post, even showed a picture of the ring (gasp! I know right!). But I didn't say it outright. Since this is my mountaintop, I'm going to shout it here: I am in love, and it is good.

The funny thing about love is that you often feel you're at the height of it, even when there's so much more to show. After our first date (yes, it was that quick for me) I thought to myself, "Uh-oh" because something was up. In the following days & dates, I felt as though the intensity of my feelings for this man would absolutely kill me. Time wore on, but real love grew: first as a sprout (oh! what a sprout!), then a stem (a brilliant stem!), then the roots came (such roots! such marvelous roots!). Like any growing thing, water and heat forced us upward, pushed our roots into the earth, bound us together. The weather in our world only wound our hands, arms, and hearts a little closer. If the sun came out, we basked; if the rains came, we built shelter. Through everything, though, we stayed together, talked it out, learned to keep our hearts light in the midst of it. Habits formed early, patterns that stick.

Pre-engagement, pre-ring, I thought I had hit the height of it. I knew I'd marry the man. I'd known for a long time, in fact, and wanted to for longer. I loved him to the max of love, to the utmost. And then, he proposed, I said yes, we got engaged. Something about that forever thing opened chasms I'd not yet known existed. I love you even more than I did yesterday? I do, in fact. Every day brings another layer, another reason, another tuning of our hearts. Every day I love him to the height of love, and it feels a little silly. Good silly. Wonderful silly.

It feels silly because of all those times I worried and waxed poetic about loneliness. It feels silly because the day before him was the day I'd come to peace with, and actually desired, a lifetime of solitude. It feels silly because he's not what I expected, but everything I wanted, and every thing I didn't know I needed. The thing is, we're tailor-made, perfectly matched, two halves of the same whole. It feels silly if silly is ridiculous peace, soul-deep joy, wholehearted, triple-felt, absolute bliss. That bubble of laughter that rises up from your belly in the best moment: this is what our love feels like. I love him to the height of it, & I'll love him more tomorrow.

photo source

Sunday, March 2, 2014

through everything, a reminder.

Sun hits my eye to remind me:
I am still on the earth.
My feet touch soil or cement and,
unequipped as they are,
walk forward. The helping hand
beneath my chest gives my lungs
much needed solace, my heart
rest, my back a place to lean.
Sun hits my skin to remind me:
I am still on the earth.

Through the cup I peer,
watch that liquid line shake
like the ground beneath;
in it's fullness spill,
relish in abundance.
There is laughter in the sloshing,
and I can hear it. Angels of mercy
see the end and marvel,
"Oh, what a beautiful quake!
Look, look what the Lord
is doing!" Gentle life-forms
who wait for love's redundance
happily lap up the overflow.

Through every tear, whether it be
for joy or sadness. When peace is
all we know, is the makeup of our souls,
when it escapes us. When the earth turns
and we get a little less sunlight, turns again
and we get a little more; when our hearts
to the world are an open door, or when we shut it.
Quiet lovely dinners, dinners that don't work,
happy accidents and purposeful deliverance,
bliss and roses, bills and folding, candles
and music and the stuff of life;

Through everything,
through everything,
a reminder.

It is in the corner of my eye as I write this,
it tells of my center, of my love's resolution.
When my eyes are closed, I can still feel it;
when I sleep or wake, there it sits, waiting,
anticipating all that is to come. You are
sunshine. You are the safe night for my soul.
You are pinnacles and perfection, grace
hilarity and redemption; you make the days,
you make me, you make us, what we are.
Your hand takes my hand to remind me:
we are still on the earth.

Peace in it`s fullness: we're engaged! Thanks to Ang from Doliente Lifestyle Photography for capturing our night.