How Dare You

Thousands of Children in the Sudan walk 5 miles every night and every morning to sleep in a cage to be safe from LRA rebel soldiers.

I NEED NEW FURNITURE IN MY FAMILY ROOM.

Those children who are abducted are turned into soldiers. forced to kill their siblings. gang raped by their captors.

MY THIGHS ARE FAT.

Religious intolerance and fundamentalism fuels genocide around the world. The entire region of Darfur Africa has been burned, killed, pillaged. The inhabitants forced out to live with no shelter. No care. No food.

I SHOULD HAVE CHOSEN STAINLESS STEEL APPLIANCES.

In the Congo Africa, women are gang raped in front of their children by the rebel forces. Their skin carved. Their bones broken. Their legs tied to trees and their innocence consumed by violent rape.

I CAN'T BEAR TO DRIVE MY JETTA ONE MORE YEAR.

Women in the Middle East are denied the human right of merely being a human. Girls denied the human right of education. Slaughtered in the street for showing the skin of an ankle. Killed for even the illusion of impropriety.

I AM SO SICK OF MY JOB.

Four million people in Pakistan are displaced. No home. Buried alive.

MY COFFEE TABLE IS OLD.


People. Children. Women. Their breath. Their ability to eat. Their ability to learn. Their ability to sleep the night without fear. Them. Them. Them. Them.

I AM BLESSED BEYOND COMPREHENSION.

Their suffering lives in my spirit.
Only self absorbsion blocks my view.

really?

“I mean, think about it.
Other than the war in Iraq,
the Katrina disaster,the deficit,
the CIA leak,torture,stopping stem cell research,
homeland security,global warmingand undercutting science,
we’ve yet to really feel the negative effects of the Bush administration.”

– Bill Moyers

memories of goodbye

My mom died 29 years ago tonite. I remember that it was late. People were staying at our house because she was so sick. I was on the trundle bed in my sisters room. My dad came in and woke me up to tell me that mom had died. It was about 1:30am in Chicago. I was 10. He put me on his knee on the yellow and green chair that mom had recovered. She loved yellow. I covered my eyes and said, "no no no no no" while shaking my head. I remember that I was thinking that I watch too much television. Weird huh? I really thought that.

Then he woke Carrie. He took us into where she was laying on their bed. She had asked him to bring us in before he body got cold. A request that sounds so forensic, but contained love all the same. I don't remember much from going into that room. She lay where she had slept. Still. Laying. Breathless. Peaceful. My next memory is being back in bed, watching from a dark room out the open door. Movement in a late night house. Muted lights, muted voices. Then, people I didn't know. And a gurney wheeled out. My mom on it. She left our house for the last time.

The next day was 50's day at school. Dad said I didn't have to go to school, but I didn't want to miss it. I rememember getting there like a hazy dream. Like the memory has white clouds around the edges. A weird, uncomfortable smile on my face. Like I had a secret. The whispers began. "her mom died?" "whitney's mom died last night". "nu uh" "yuh huh". Then Mrs. Yost told that indeed, Whitney's mom had died.

Me, in my poodle skirt on 50's day.

Goddess

I wish that I was one of those people who don't have an emotional relationship with food. I don't know how or why it started with me. As a very small child, I have no memories of food, or needing it or wanting it. i really don't have any true memories of food. I think that the shift must have happened when my mom died. At that point, at a very vulnerable developmental period in my life, my most trusting and sacred relationship was taken away from me. It wasn't terribly sudden, but I'm not sure that matters to a 10 year old. So, then began an experience of me feeling like I had to take for myself because Life couldn't and can't be trusted to give to me what I need.

Be the first in line. Have the largest serving. Get more than the other guy. Know something I wasn't supposed to know.

I believe my relationship with food continues to live in that place. Honestly, I don't feel like I really overeat for the most part. But sometimes, I can really feel the emotional tug. Even when Eric and I have dinner, I am aware of which plate has more food. I am quite sure that many, if not most people don't think about this. It's embarrassing to admit. Why is it that if there is cake in the lunchroom at work, I think about how I'll get a piece before it's all gone? These things, combined with what I think must be the slowest metabolism in the Western World, have created a body representing the Goddess of Fertility. Found alluring to ancient cultures.... not so much this one.

I'm 39 and still fighting demons created 29 years ago. Isn't that interesting.

spring clean

isnt it funny how things that have nothing to do with us become percieved as things that speak directly to our worth? why do we do that to ourselves? let things live where they live. clear our minds of things that we have dragged in there from elsewhere. fill it with love instead.

'Bout time

Lyrics to Pink's Amazing Song: STUPID GIRLS

Stupid girl, stupid girls, stupid girls
Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl
Go to Fred Segal, you'll find them there
Laughing loud so all the little people stare
Looking for a daddy to pay for the champagne(Drop a name)
What happened to the dreams of a girl president
She's dancing in the video next to 50 Cent

They travel in packs of two or three
With their itsy bitsy doggies and their teeny-weeny tees
Where, oh where, have the smart people gone?
Oh where, oh where could they be?
Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back
What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don't wanna be a stupid girl
Disease's growing, it's epidemic
I'm scared that there ain't a cure
The world believes it and I'm going crazy
I cannot take any more
I'm so glad that I'll never fit in
That will never be me
Outcasts and girls with ambition
That's what I wanna see
Disasters all around
World despaired
Their only concernWill they **** up my hair
Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back

What a paparazzi girl, I don't wanna be a stupid girl
Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don't wanna be a stupid girl

Flam

you're coasting along just certain that life is going to accomodate your every plan and whim and FLAM! no such luck. now. CAN I PRACTICE WHAT I PREACH? that is the real question.

so what if i DON'T start my MSW in the fall? How will I use my year? How will I make it count?

Ideas are swirling. It's an opportunity, not a problem. Right?

Cumpleanos

I turned 39 yesterday. Felt calm and somewhat quiet about it. Seems I am beyond the days of weeping when I thought my friends had forgotten to call up a local parade for the event.
And yet, my sweet husband went outside of his own comfort zone to invite a few local friends to surprise me. And surprise me he did :)

My greatest gift yesterday was from a friend. She reminded me to let myself believe that I am loved. That I can loosen my grip on my own need to indulge myself because I fear that no one else will. To know that those who love me will indulge me. Not with gifts or money or chocolate, but with knowing and supporting me. It touched me and moved me. Thank you.

Ahhhhh

Courageous Woman
Courageous Pink
Spoke. Stupid Girls. Sad girls. Losing selves, gaining boobs, Gucci, size 0.

Anything that causes me to be less than i am, in order that someone else can be more than they are, eats away at the essence of who I am.

Girls.

Who are you? What do you think? What do you like? What do you offer? What are you great at? What challenges you? If you weren't limited by tabloid expectations, who would you be?

We have become oppressors of our sisters. The bar is being silently lowered for us, by us.

The problem has been spoken.
The issue has been seen.
The question has been posed.

We, You, I, They. Responsible for what we know. Listen and Know.

Washing your car in a bikini? Not so sexy.

Beat the local boys at touch football? Debate your butt off without bending to popular opinion? Saying no? VERY SEXY.

I'm in!

My husband got me an MP3 player and now i'm in the club! He's had one for a long time and loads it religiously. I watched this behavior with admiration and a detached wonder. I've never been the sort who breathes music as many do. I wondered if having an MP3 would really matter much to me. Then, I got Eric Satellite Radio for Christmas. Since the musician's name is displayed on the screen, I've been able to connect the who to the what much more readily. I've even wanted to look for the work of artists who have flitted past my auditory canals.

Knowing an artist + the desire to hear their stuff + the ability to get it easily + MP3 player = fun!!

Math was never my strong suit, but that equation came pretty easily. I'm late to the party I know.... but at least i got here.

Check out Anna Nalick's music.

8th graders are evil

Am I more annoyed at their behavior or at the nagging truth that I was just as bad when I was that age? It's amazing what a completely different frame of reference we look through when we're 14 from when we're over 35. It's amusing, humbling and infuriating all at the same time.

Today I got back from a long weekend in Phoenix visiting the family to find out that several of my classes were HORRID for the sub. Having been a sub, I am sensitive to it, and just mad that I know they can behave like humans if they want to.

Most of them are really fine. It's just the combination of so many of them at the same time that can be overwhelming. It's kind of funny that an hour that can cause me stress for days is barely a blip on the radar screen for them. Nice in a way. Perhaps it should barely be a blip for me too.

Barclay

Today I had my 14 year old cat, Barclay, put to sleep. I'm sad. Just days ago he started to act sick. Confused. Lethargic. Not eating or drinking. Yesterday the vet said it's congestive heart failure. He wasn't going to get better. Today, it was painful to see him that way. Laying like a wet noodle on the floor. Crying out. Confused. Refusing to eat or drink. I had to let him go. I didn't wait. I let him go. I'm sad. Hoping there is truth to spirit and wondering if he met my Jack on the other side. That's my hope. My heart feels a little empty and the space on the couch next to me is hollow without him. Thank you Barclay for being a quiet presence in my life for so long. I'll miss you sweet boy.

husband

gentle
curious
calm
real
hilarious
loving
adventurous
open
accepting
tender
seeking
surprising
comfortable
willing
friend

and on we go

It's Sunday. Already the middle of March. It's true that time seems to elapse faster the older we get. How is it that I will turn 39 years old in just a few weeks?

I remember when I was a teenager how older people seemed a world a way. Out of touch. I was certain that they had no idea what I was going through. And now, almost 40, I am clear that though I now have a much more broad perspective on life, I am the same girl I was when I was that young. I laugh thinking about the drama. The things that were the end of the world, the immensity of the emotions I was feeling. Not that I haven't felt immense drama as an adult (oh, just a few times....). But the feeling is different. As a teen I wasn't able to apply the big picture to the pain. It was just me, and my experience that created the pulse of Life.

I have a new compassion for people at the end of their journey, knowing that they are the same child that they have always been. The reality of it is truly beautiful. And comforting that when I approach my twilight, I will still be me. It's a thought that reinforces my belief that this isn't the end.

Boundaries

Messages come. Often overlooked as chaff in the wind. Unused.
I hear a message for me.

Why is it that though we may technically be adults, there are huge, viable parts of us that don't mature past the time in our lives that we were hurt. When the wound came.

I am hearing Life whisper to me that I am not 13. I am not in need. I do not need anyone to affirm who I am. I am not alone. I am not weak. I AM.

I am feeling compassion for those who seek to fill that chasm in ways that cross boundaries. Boundaries that are important and necessary because they protect others. Boundaries that keep the people we are working to help-safe in their own experiences. I have compassion for those to break those boundaries and I have anger at the same time. I have not done this, and at the same time, I hear Life whisper for me to pay attention. Fill my own chasm. Anything else is to not love.

To allow oneself to fill it with someone else's attention..... attention that is gained by being in a position of trust...... is to use the warm spirit of a cherished person for our own need, our own gain. The thought makes my soul weep. And shudder.

My hearts desire is to be in a position of trust. A place that others can come to to fall, to grow, to weep, to trust. A place where they can be safe to lose their own sense of boundary. Therefore, I will continue to work to strengthen my own fortress of integrity. It is so easy for it to become a thin veil that blends with the breeze around it... possible to ignore. I will not. I move to remember my core and to love others with a trustworthiness strong enough to handle their lack of it.

Life, Thank you for the whisper.

Dana

I didn't know her.
Didn't think of her often.

Her death has touched me.
Her smile. Her generous spirit. Her heart.

She was the wind beneath his wings.
Her soul willingly intertwined with his.
Then his wings spread and he left.

It's almost as if she couldn't remain without him.
And she left too.
Knowing her strong son had been prepared.

My morning was touched with sadness.
My own loss revisited.
My own tears invited to share in this goodbye.

A reminder of my own woman of grace.
And her goodbye.

fed

feeds me
entertains me
sooths me
encourages me
calms me
loves me
lies to me
blinds me
binds me
weights me
hides me
cheats me

More to come soon

I haven't written in a long time. Forgot how to get in here to tell the truth. But after much digging, I found my way back :)

April 9th

Joy. Sacred. balloons and flowers and sunshine and laughter and

me.

Ow

The delicious languid pain
of needing what is not clear
i feel it now. right now.
i feel you and want you and need you and desire for nothing more than you.
now.
how is it that it was you who left my life. my sight. my touch. my life. my life. my life.
it hurts.
i miss you with every day that comes. every delight i have. every love i know.
it hurts.
it will always hurt. won't it.
it was this day long ago. a second ago.
our souls burst into two from a messy, meshy, mass of one. of you.
and we danced together for a minute. was it only a minute? or a lifetime. or inside out moments that equal nothing. and everything.
it hurts.
and i miss you.