Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Mother Goose Knows All...

When I was a child...I committed myself...to memorizing all fairy tales...and nursery rhymes...there was...well...no rhyme or reason...it was just my belief...that they held all the mysteries...and answers... to life...Whenever I was sick...which was often...I read...no...committed to memory...each story...riddle and rhyme...and prepared myself for the retelling...with all honor and respect...for a mother...who looked like a bird...

Jack Sprat and his wife...opened my eyes...to the idea that...two people did not have to mirror each other...to reach fulfillment and a common goal...licking a platter clean...Georgie Porgie...warned me of impulsive behavior...which I struggled with...daily...that chasing after everyone...and everything would only make those things...run from me...and Little Miss Muffet...prepared me for my greatest fears...that I would have to face...if I didn't want to lose my dinner...literally...and figuratively...But...the most important...and pivotal lesson...came from Humpty Dumpty...falling from grace...breaking...and others trying to fix him...

Four years ago...I sat on a wall...looking down...from a very high place...unaware of how very fragile my life was...and that I was not in control...When the fall came...I was unprepared...and lay broken...shattered...in thousands of pieces...and all the king's horses...and men...couldn't put me back together again...

So there I remained...reaching out...pulling each fractured piece...of my shell...back towards me... shifting their positions...in an attempt...to replicate...my puzzled self...to no avail...It seemed at times...that all my gooey insides...were running all over the place...because they were...mixed up...brain scrambled...and my emotions...well...nothing was in check...

Then...I stopped trying...trying to fix...trying to grasp answers...trying to pretend...and I sat very still...very still...when I did move...they were small movements...imperceptible...to the human eye...storms came and went...seasons changed...and I found myself blown...in a new direction...many times...Until...at last...all became calm...and there was rest...for the forces of my nature...

When the light...broke through the clouds...and began to shine upon my head...I saw the cracks and fissures...that I had once feared...revealed...something greater...more wonderful...than anything...I could have done on my own...no one thing fixed me...nobody...put me back together...because the together life I had lived...was just a shell...that hid the greatest parts of me...and it took falling...to break that façade...to release all that I tucked away...from the world...and myself...

So the moral to the story...a fall from...so called grace...is sometimes necessary...to break with habits...that keep us high up...that keep us safe...the danger is all that distance from the ground...and sometimes broken...is the best place to start...because...in the light of day...all that chaos...that we were running from...is really quite true...and honest...and beautiful...Ahhh...that devilishly clever poultry figure...

Mother Goose knows all...

Sunday, December 8, 2013

I've Been Here Before...

I have always been fascinated with the concept of reincarnation...the idea that we are all...somehow connected...that we are...the missing pieces to a puzzle...that time...and lives intersect...allowing us to work out past wrongs...have the ultimate do over...correct our mistakes...have another chance to be with...that person...and most important...that you may have been Queen Elizabeth...in a former life...after all...who wants to discover...that they were a telephone operator...or the guy that held the piss bowl...in a nondescript court...in Serbia...

My life...these days...is about revisiting my past...correcting my wrongs...facing my demons...changing my negative life behaviors...man...have I been busy...I find that every day...is about redirection...attempting to not be perpetually embarrassed...about...well...everything...I can't do much about my childhood...realistically...I was born...I made due...then...I was old enough to create my own life...I did that...I'm satisfied...it's all that stuff that I did...when...I supposedly...was making important life decisions...on my own...and I blew it...

I raced around...frantically...attempting to find a person...to fill my emptiness...I can't blame the ones that stuck...for being idiots...or jerks...or unfaithful...there were always signs...of the inevitable chasms...that I would be at the bottom of...by the time they left...and was yelling to the heavens...why did I let you put me here...investing in losing situations...or people...being too nice...too naive...too pliable...too scared...and too many deja vus...

Nothing...could make me happier...than to discover that...I am...reliving a past...that I need to fix...and that I'm doing it...As I make my attempts...to break through lifetime barriers...toss out old habits...stop putting off problems...and release my creativity...I find myself collecting...many of the same people...and situations...and I wonder...quite loudly...have I done this before...have I created an eternity...of repetition...personal hurt...and poor choices...that have trapped me in a  negative pattern...and...what else can I do...

Maybe...I have wasted my energy...on everything...and everyone else...Now...I am focusing on myself...maybe...the change I'm creating...is drawing in others...who believe they want a change...and maybe they feel...I might do that for them...I don't know...I don't know how this is happening...why...or how to break away...

Truth is...I feel that...every day...I get closer...to the me that I want to be...and every day...I question myself...about who I am...what my future holds...and why it hurts so much...when I begin to see...all things I do that are...well...hurting me...Then I say...is it okay...that these days...I find myself in tears...at least once a week...and...did Queen Elizabeth go through this too...or am I the only one who feels like...they are holding the piss bowl...in a nondescript court...Maybe...all of this...is wasting more time...or a distraction...from what is really in my way...Maybe...none of this matters...right now...I can't answer that...but I'll tell you what I do know...

I've been here before...

Sunday, December 1, 2013

You're Too Nice...

When I was growing up...I swam in shark infested waters...every move was dangerous...there was no rhyme or reason...to the things that could leave you dragging away a bloody stump...of self esteem...or dignity...I equate my early experiences...to being a war vet...too vivid memories...stories that I can't tell...and the occasional dream...that has me waking to a soaking sweat...and it was during that time...that I decided...I would be different...opposite...of the chaos...and that if I knew my actions...would bring pain to another...I would consciously...make a different choice...so that I would never purposefully hurt someone...I've stuck to that...

My adult decisions...have not always been brilliant...some border on idiocy...but I have managed to limit my times...of truly hurting someone...as a result...I have found myself...on the receiving end of the frustrations of others...and I have piles of advice from well wishers...who find it completely unbelievable...that one person could choose peace...and compromise...and empathy...over ambush...manipulation...and self serving devices...disguised as love...currently...I'm using all that advice...to stuff my throw pillows...I have a lot of pillows...

Mostly...I hear a phrase...daily...that I used to view as a compliment...then it became..confusing...then irritating..and now...an insult...to my intelligence...and ability to make choices...as a functional adult...Yesterday...I heard it three times...I brought in baked goods to share with coworkers...there it was...I gave someone a break about an issue...again...I priced an item at a lower amount...lower than others...the phrase...a third time...mentally...my brow furrowed...

I thought about it last night...and this morning...it woke me up...Why was this a common response from others...and why had it begun causing anger...to well up in me...I brought baked goods in to grow the option of baking for wages...I love to bake...and I'm pretty good...and I want to grow my earning potential...I gave someone a day pass for attitude...because...I didn't care...they were having a bad day...I wasn't...I knew it wasn't personal...and I priced an item low...because I sold them three...instead of one...I made more money...on something that I didn't pay a dime of my own money...I don't think my reasons are worthy of a newsletter...but I had reasons...I always do...

Then...this occurred to me...we are a mean lot...humans...we cheat...slit the throats of neighbors...brag about our conquests...standing over others...lying in the dirt...we insert ourselves...in other people's business...and call it our own...and we will peck that weak chicken bloody...because...it's a Monday...and all with a smile on our face...there's a word for that...ass-sk...anyone...

So...here's my thought...maybe that phrase...is a warning from another...that they aren't...well...you know...maybe...while they are advising you...they are also picking your pocket...taping a kick me sign to your back...and you...and all your kindness...is making them feel uncomfortable...cruelty usually travels in packs...and caring...is the lone wolf...

Just in case...you are worrying...that I am not savvy...in worldly ways...or that I'm too good...read this again...I couldn't write it...if I wasn't aware that the opposite of kind...is well...not...and some...are just rotten to the core...and it's my life...my right...to take my chances...in the hope...that my intentions will be reciprocated...that karma will be kind...and that I will die peacefully...without regret over my behavior...but if you think that I don't know exactly...what is going on...in the minds of others...well...you know...

you're too nice...

Friday, November 29, 2013

I...Me...My...

I am spending the weekend...with a good friend...I am answering the questions of another...and I have someone very special...in my life...who is dealing with something...very personal...and painful...and I am trying desperately...to express my willingness to focus...on their needs...at a moments notice...

I tried...several times...to write the text...that would express my every thought...that would give them space...and let them know that I am lying in wait...for anything they need...that my thoughts are with them...that I find nothing more important...than being there...for them...I asked my good friend...if I was wording my thoughts...in a way...that spoke beyond...I questioned her thoughts...I countered her arguments...and then I scrubbed everything...as I worked through my fears and frustrations...of expressing my feelings...and having them understood...

I pondered...what needed to be said...I rewrote the text...I read it out loud...and then silently...I stared at my phone...me...a writer...I wanted to say the just right words...I erased...I re-wrote...I read it out loud...again...then I sent it...and stared at my phone again...I wondered...was this appropriate...was I too intrusive...had I said everything I needed to...would they understand all...that I could not say...

As I scrubbed my bathroom...after my kitchen...I thought...how much of my evening...had been thinking about them...that person struggling...in pain...and...I began...by counting the times that I say I...in all of my conversations...all the moments...that I place myself...in the center of situations...where I can be the center...where I worry...about another's reactions...not because I want them to be most comfortable ...but because...I worry about their response to me...

I realized...that I was irrefutably...embarrassed to be me...that all my intentions...were in need of questioning...and that I...although...I could point a finger...at my childhood...raising myself...fighting to survive...then surviving...and fighting to blend...to be more...to be heard...to make a difference...to leave my mark...that no matter the results...I had no one to blame...but me...

I wondered...how much of our reaching out to others...was really about us...the simple act...of one person...laying their hand in the hand of another...starts with us...so...how much is about someone else...when they are quietly wrestling...with...anything...and we know this...how do we drop our needs...how do we offer everything to another...and not insert...ourselves...into the prominent portion...of the equation...

Maybe we can't...maybe that is the twist in life...we reach out for others...and it's really about us...Maybe that's why English teachers...stop us...from using the words...I...me...my...from essays...and people create bumper stickers that say...I care about this because...or if I need your opinion I'll give it to you...Maybe this is why Emily Post has to write books...about courtesy...and others shake there heads...over our faux pas...as they talk about the correct way they handle things...

And...through all this...my special someone...is struggling...to figure how they will deal...with what matters to them most...and...I can't stop counting...as I read this piece...how many times...that I have said...

I...me...my...

Friday, November 15, 2013

Your Kind of Crazy...

For the past few years...I have been attempting...trying...to reconstruct my life...sometimes haphazardly...sometimes desperately...my efforts could be compared to ripping open a goose down pillow in hurricane force winds...and...then collecting all the individual feathers...good luck to me...With each effort...friends...family...and random passersby have commented...you're crazy...crazy for this...crazy for that...crazy for the other thing...mentally...I gave them the finger...and kept at it...my business...

Thrown back into the dating world...not my area of comfort...became a system of hanging my dirty laundry out...for the world to see...specifically a line of potential suitors...and although their briefs and boxers sported rips...tears...and skid marks...hanging on their line...I found myself hunkering down...as they pointed at me...and said...you're crazy...for this...for that...for the other thing...

There must have been a moment...when my sensitivity...my hope...my idealism...was kicked to the curb...and my feelings stopped...well...feeling hurt...and I began winning the race to point a finger...I sharpened my razor tongue...so that when I said...you're crazy...and said it first...the receiver would limp away...hand clamped...to the gushing gash I inflicted...that way...when I put my foot on their...uh...bottom...and pushed...they would easily fall...

Recently...I have found myself in debates over crazy...you keep everything...well...you throw everything away...you collect crap...oh yeah...you have junk...you leave yours out...you have to put yours away...you chose pursuing dreams over working 9-5...you work 9-5...and don't pursue your dreams...you think you can do anything...and everything...you are too old...you are too young...you don't do enough...you do too much...you don't say enough...you say too much...all of it attached to...crazy...crazy...crazy...

Yesterday...I tore someone down...I mean down...I let them know...just how and why...they were crazy...I mapped out their craziness...drew diagrams...of how they got there...and handed them a fresh pamphlet...so they could work on...fixing their crazy...and then brushed my mental hands...in satisfaction...as they stood in silence...and then they said...you are so smart...brilliant...beautiful...you do things that help others...you are talented...and at the same time...you are mean...you have an attitude...don't you think that is crazy...I stood in silence...

I asked myself...why I had started to care...care about who was crazy...and why...when did I take that turn...turning my back...on the wonderful crazy things about me...on the beauty...that I have always been able to find in others...and the acceptance...that has been my saving grace...so that I can forgive...so that I can try...again and again...so that I can love...unconditionally...and then I said...you're right...it is crazy...the wrong kind...

So...when I came home this morning...from running my errands...that we're so important to me...and I mumbled about the woman across the street...who doesn't say hi back...the cop who stops me on the corner...once a week...to tell me I'm speeding...when I'm driving 20 miles per hour...my beautiful roommate...who leaves a trail behind her...all through the house...just as I whispered...this is crazy...I looked down at my hands...realizing that I had entered the house...dropped my purse...moved straight to the stove...and began scrubbing...and then I laughed...hysterically...blue gloves and all...head in the oven...this was crazy...and who cares...

It was in the fumes and grime...that my true epiphany came...we're all crazy...every single damn one of us...we all have quirks...dirty laundry...say inappropriate things...don't care about important things...because we all find importance...in different things...we don't listen to some things...and cling to others...we laugh when we're not supposed to...we harbor resentments...and dreams...we risk our dignity on things...people...situations...and hide in fear...because of others...

Isn't it odd...we are so busy scrubbing the oven...instead of eating lunch...and pointing our fingers...to distract...from our own behaviors...we don't bother...to ask ourselves...whether we should be telling someone...you're kind of crazy...or saying to ourselves...this is...

your kind of crazy...

Sunday, November 10, 2013

When the Tables Turn...

I was a little girl...when my grandfather taught me...the ins and outs of setting a table...There were right ways...and wrong ways...The spacing had to be un-crowded...the knives had to be turned blade to the plate...so you wouldn't be cut...the smaller...more petite came first...and the bigger pieces...responsible for the true nourishment...were meant to be second...and were less attractive...Most important...every item...needed to know its place...and if you placed anything wrong...everyone would be embarrassed for you...I was stressed...beyond belief...

My sense of responsibility...for even the smallest thing...will keep me awake nights...I know I seem cool...calm...and relaxed...but that's only from years of deep breathing...and mastering the art of keeping my lip from trembling...To make matters worse...I tend to be intuitive...I can sense displeasure...disappointment...or a drop in confidence...it's like being a living thermometer...and so I work...tirelessly...to maintain a temperate climate...and balance within myself...You can imagine my...hmmm...what's the word...fear...when I realized that I am beginning to...experience the first signs of...what will one day be dementia...

My aunt has it...she is the shell of the woman that I remember...brilliant and fiery...spoke two languages...traveled...and pushed everyone's buttons...she now struggles to push the right buttons on the phone...speaks a language no one understands...and travels only in her nightgown now...from room to room...

When I was a child...I suffered several serious head injuries...some from accidents...and some from "accidents"...as I grew older...I garnered a couple more...I relearned how to write...how to process information...how to focus...how to make it through migraines...how to pretend that my thinking wasn't stuck...how to cover when I couldn't pretend...and how to embrace my weaknesses...and let my gifts...my talents grow...to fill in the synaptic glitches...

As I stood in the kitchen tonight...in my mid 40's...staring at the dish soap...knowing I needed to do something with it...and my eyes darted...from the water to the bottle...and back...three times before I connected everything...I realized that I'm scared...Right now...it's little things...small details...but will there come a day...I know...that I will lose...faces...words...actions...memories...

I don't know...if I can write fast enough...love enough...see enough...break enough rules...laugh enough or loud enough...Are there really enough jokes...stories...friends...lovers...sunrises...or sunsets...children to play with...or kittens and puppies...that I won't feel pain...when they are not in the proper place...in my mind...

I suppose...that after a lifetime...of keeping everything in its proper place...maybe it is time...to mix it up a bit...maybe go to the mailbox...in my nightgown...or wear mismatched outfits...or dip Oreos in Gatorade...so that when I start to believe this is appropriate...no one will see that I've changed...Maybe...its okay...for the table to remain unset...to just toss the forks in the middle...and let everyone else figure out where they go...Maybe the things...that we tell ourselves are important...like dining etiquette...doesn't matter...in the grand scheme of things...I imagine...that when my mind...is no longer my own...getting things right might be a concern...but then...if I just focus on living...maybe I won't notice...when I can't remember anymore...

When the tables turn...

Friday, November 1, 2013

Take a Chance on Me....

We all have our favorite musical artists...the ones we tell everyone about...and the ones that we keep to ourselves... Mine...ABBA...When friends discover my addiction...the jokes are endless...I laugh...but I still listen to them.  Ironically...I pulled them up on Pandora...and my favorite song of theirs immediately began playing...They sang...in perfect harmony...begging for another to give them a chance...to believe in them...As I swayed...yes...swayed to the beat...I thought about my writing this week...about taking chances...risking...the theme...mistakes...

Oh my...my mistakes have been plentiful...gargantuan...epic...Some of them are the making of screenplays...some should just be buried in a flower garden...Many of them...were short lived...and some will haunt me until the day I die...but I am nothing...if not consistent...so I will continue to make mistakes...hopefully...each one only once...

If look deeper at my lifetime of foibles...as I have this week...here's what I find...I believe in others...their resiliency...their potential...and their ability to correct the path they are on...I have believed in thousands...my clients...my co workers...my government...my family...my lovers...and my friends...there is only one person that I rarely give a chance...or room for mistakes...me...

I look back over a lifetime of opportunities...that I have passed on...because I didn't believe that I was capable of achievement...If I were my own parent...which I have been much of my life...I would be that mother who says...don't even try...you will fail...Firm...to the point...and unyielding...in my belief...that I shouldn't believe in me...

My risk taking has been cleverly disguised as belief in others...as if...I were trying to trick myself...so that I wouldn't discover my own attempts...at something new...I can persuade others to believe in me...my outside the box ideas...and then promptly...go home and throw up...Years of migraines...heartburn...sleepless nights...and tears have plagued me...and my reaching out to...myself...While others sang my praises...I hung my head...positive...that I would be found out...for the fraud I believed myself to be...

It took losing everything...I mean everything...to not care anymore...what I had to say about me...What's the worst that could happen...that I wouldn't be my friend anymore...Here's the bigger question...had I ever...When was the last time...I was a good friend to myself...In a lifetime of experiences...for every hundred that I offered others...I offered one to me...always with loopholes...and conditions...and the prodding of a friend...

So...where does this leave me now...Hello...my name is Mickie...Hello Mickie...It's been three months...since I last didn't believe in myself...Tell me your story...I'm taking this day by day...sometimes I need support...but I know I'll make it...I just have to...

take a chance on me...

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Boulevard of Broken Dreams...

In 1942...Edward Hopper painted a snapshot of a corner diner...with three individuals at a counter...and the man behind the counter...serving them...It was meant to represent loneliness...isolation...and commonality between four strangers...In 1984...Gottfried Helnwein...replaced the individuals with Marilyn Monroe...James Dean...Elvis Presley...and Humphrey Bogart...all who died senseless deaths...and represented loneliness...isolation...and commonality between four individuals...who were actually strangers...to each other...What could this possibly have to do with anything...

Three years ago...I decided to try online dating...I was working in rural areas...I worked all the time...and I was alone...very alone...no family...no children...and the life I had known disintegrated...right before my eyes...but...being the idealist I am...I decided that there are ways to connect with others...to find that just right person...to reach out...and fill that empty place...beside me...or maybe inside...

It is an understatement...to say that I gave it my very best shot...I have been discriminating...and then I have dated indiscriminately...I have shared the condensed version of my life...so many times...that it actually bores me...I have dressed young...dressed up...dressed down...even wore a dress...I have listened to other's stories...it feels like millions... I've worked out...gotten worked up...been worked over...in four separate states...and overseas...and I am still incredibly...incredulously...single...

It would be easy to say...I will be alone forever...the fact is...I'm not alone...there are a lot...thousands...millions...of people who are alone... worse yet...lonely...and...because it is so easy to connect on the internet...they are barreling over...and through...other alone...and lonely people...and the trail of blood tells the tale...and I'm not so sure...that I haven't hurt my fair share of searching individuals...

You would think...that with so many people alone...and with advanced technology to help us...that we would connect...learn about each other...live life to its fullest...and love...long and hard...Instead...we learn nothing...stop living...and love...for the moment...We treat each other...as if we are dispensable...disposable...like fast food...

We shake our bowed heads at victimization...we cry out at bombings...we shake our fists at the heavens about poverty...unfairness...abuse of power...and then we step on the hearts of those around us...we all do it...it's so easy...so unimportant to us...because...in the back of minds...we've decided...oh...they'll survive...they asked for it...well...they put themselves out there...there's plenty of fish in the sea...The longer I have participated in roller derby dating...the more bruises I have obtained...the more that I have felt that I am broken...sometimes shattered...and the more I hear the shattering stories of slashed dreams...murdered hopes...and crushed self worth...

I guess...there is a purpose behind it all...I have met some wonderful men...who I just became friends with...and I read that people meet the love of their lives online...but it just seems to me that...as all these strangers come together...meeting in bars...or at parks...or just at a diner...the picture that has been painted for me...looks very much like...one of the most famous depictions...of individuals coming together...and still being alone...

I made the decision to stop...stop it all...stop the online dating...and the frenetic attempts...to meet someone...I suppose...this means...I may walk alone...for a long time...maybe forever...but...maybe...it will make more room for people who care about me...who want to spend time with me...and for myself...to let my talents...and aspirations grow...I realize this puts me on a path of my choosing...in uncharted territory...but I believe this is a better...kinder...more fulfilling road...that instead of following others...I will  be blazing my own trail...It may get bumpy...or muddy...or boring...but with all the unknown...it will get me where I'm supposed to be...faster...then travelling the unsafe transit system on...

the boulevard of broken dreams...

Friday, October 11, 2013

Table for Two...

Yesterday...I hopped into my car...and headed out...My first choice was Atlanta...but I had turned in that direction for someone else...not me...similar to all the decisions I've made in my life...my intended journey was for another...So I changed direction...and came to New Orleans...

As the green trees whirred by...and the bright sun broke through the clouds...of my troubled mind...I knew that I was on the right path...With my bruised ego in the passenger seat...we discussed all the mistakes of my past...the injuries...the loneliness...the deceptions...and the shelved dreams...We reviewed the relationships...found...then lost...the places...within myself...where I had culled out space...so that someone else could set up residence...only to have them walk away...and the time spent filling in those gaps...with grains of sand...leaving me heavy and empty...and as I drove and discussed...windows rolled down...those tiny...heavy fillers...slipped away...caught by the wind...By the time I reached Lake Pontchartrain...the only thing that filled the car...was the delicious briny air and bright sunlight...I felt energized...and at peace...with myself...just the two of us...old friends...war buddies...

As dusk fell over the French Quarter...I took myself out to photograph the dark and sorted corners...street performers...couples...the working individuals...and the drunks...I sat at a bar...gulping an ice cold beer...and spoke with a young woman...risking a safe life for pursuing her dreams... I saw myself in her gestures...and the tilt of her head...as she described her risky plans...silently I said an artists prayer for her...then I slipped away...

Two blocks away...I shared a laugh with a hostess...at a busy restaurant...and our banter procured a table for me...She...unblinkingly...took me to a table...for one...with two place settings...all around me couples...pairings...groups...in the center...me...and that's when it came...the simple text...from a new potential suitor...I thought I'd send you a note...I know you must be very lonely there...

I paused...and looked around...only to catch myself in the mirrored wall...I was grinning...at myself...I hadn't even felt the corners of my mouth turn up...I think I might have been grinning the whole night...maybe the whole day...I inhaled my last oyster...dipped my fried green tomato into the last of my remoulade...washed it down with my second icy beer...and my ego sent a text back...Oh no...I'm not lonely...I chose this...I'm sitting in a beautiful restaurant at a...

...table for two...

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Better...You Bet...

Years ago...I found a dirty patina painting...tucked away in the back of a dingy flea market...Patina is a rare find...someone used their hands to form the delicate plaster...and carefully placed each detail on a carved board...and then breathed life into the images...with paint and brush...At first glance...the piece screamed ugly...in the poorly lit corner...islands away from all the other treasures...but there was something...I couldn't put my finger on it...No..maybe not...this wasn't of value...and I walked away...

Weaving my way through the market...I looked at...and temporarily fell in love with other pieces...only to put them back...after a few moments of touching and holding...losing interest as fast as it sparked...and all the while...that patina kept popping up...in the corners of my mind...maybe I would go back and give it a second look...well...maybe after I checked out this other item...after all...this one was sparkly...jazzy...everything I needed to know was right there...for the world to see...

Two hours passed...my hands were surprisingly empty...and that patina had moved to the forefront of my brain...I easily made my way back to the dark corner...and there she sat...until the moment I took her home...wrapped in old newspaper...only to place her in a corner of my living room...and forget about her for two months...

One ordinary afternoon...with nothing better to do...I unwrapped her...pulled her into the light...and with moistened q-tips...I carefully brushed away the years of dirt...Oh...she had some dings...bits of plaster missing...but...oddly enough...those missing pieces weren't from important parts of the painting's meaning...they only added to her character...and the untouched areas...were absolute beauty...

With each swipe of my tiny tool...the colors became brighter...her story unfolded...a young woman tending to her garden...caring for her home...and welcoming all to step through her gate...The more I unearthed...the more I was taken with her beauty...simplicity...and honesty...No complex messages...no agendas...everything she had to share was right there...and now the world could see it...

I wondered...why it had taken me so long to spend the time to clean away the nastiness...that had enveloped her...why had I felt so comfortable...passing her by...leaving her sitting alone...forgotten...and unappreciated...now...I couldn't imagine my home without her...I own nothing better...

Today...I looked in a mirror...after years...months...weeks...of uncovering...me...I wondered how I have put myself in corners...allowed dust and dirt to collect on my dreams...and talents...And as I scrape each layer off...as I work through the crevices of my life...removing the junk...and place myself in a different light...I am beginning to see my story...the one that was meant to be shared...the one that many have walked past...for something sparkly...jazzy...as I sat silently...waiting...waiting for the ordinary day...that I would take the time...to unearth the delicate patina of me...

Oh...I'm still working...slowly...patiently...this may take a bit...but every time I ask myself...will this get better...will I get better...I answer myself...yes oh yes...

...better...you bet...

Friday, September 27, 2013

The Heroin in My Story...

When I was a little girl...I would find something interesting...it could be anything...and I would become...instantly...obsessed with the topic...There was the dinosaur period...where I dragged around a dinosaur bone for a week...dug holes all over the yard in search of an archaeological find...and memorized the names of all the reptiles living in the Jurassic period...

There was the day I discovered that I had Native American blood running through my veins...and began memorizing tribal sign language...which I promptly listed as the second language spoken in my home...which led to the principal's office...Then there was my obsessive reading of a new author I had discovered...and the need to read their books in order of their printing...Rudyard Kipling...Laura Ingalls Wilder...Stephen King...once I made a discovery...I was addicted...I can honestly say...that most of those addictions fell to the wayside...I never became dependent on Vicodin...or speed...never tried illegal drugs...but...there are two things  that have always had a hold on me...fairy tales...and one man...

You wouldn't think that stories and a living person have anything in common...but they do...The stories all have a female...male relationship...the rise and fall of action...there are always beasts...or demons...or great trials and tribulations that have to be overcome...and in true...un-sugarfied fashion...the stories most often end with the separation of siblings...partners...lovers...the tale expertly woven...entangles the unsuspecting reader...snaring them into returning again and again...just like an addictive substance hooks the user...causing them to return to use...again and again...hoping for that original high...

When I was 16...I met a boy...who changed me forever...I looked in his eyes...and I learned what being in love meant...What he made me feel...helped me recognize the man I did marry...granted the marriage ended...his choice... I could see love...when it stood in front of me...and I knew when it was gone...but...and there is always a but...I never stopped loving that first young man I fell in love with at 16...he is and always be my delicious drug...desire for him raced through my veins then...and it does now...what sweet sweet pleasure...and pain...

He's a man now...I'm a grown woman...and after 30 years...when I hear from him...open an email from him...see his picture...my heart skips a beat...adrenal rushes through my system...my eyes dilate...and I am back...over and over...just to experience that first high...I can't get enough of our tale...this boy and girl...who locked eyes and fell in love...only to be separated by the beast of burdens...inner demons that torment...and the trials of life...and in an un-sugarfied fashion...we are not together...and probably never will be...

I have tried...over and over...to change the plot...the story-line...The conflict has always been the same...and there is no resolution...at least not one I can see...yet I am obsessed...addicted...to him...to us...to what I wish things could be...As the hands on the clock of time spin...I have to wonder...is this clearly illogical desire...actually making me sick...and if it is...truly bad for me...is there a rehab...something or someone I can turn to edit out this part of my life...so that I can move on with my own story...because I feel as trapped in my fairy tale...as characters must feel in the pages of a book...Is there medicine I can take...or a clinic I can check into...or someone else's fable that I can focus on...because deep down...I know...I need to escape...

the heroin in my story...


Saturday, August 31, 2013

A Beautiful Work of Art....

Many years ago...I taught a class in stage make up...I had a knack for it...I had graduated from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts...and was accomplished at teaching others how to alter their appearance with techniques and tools...and...at the end of the term...I held a final exam...the students would choose a character in a play or creation...that they would turn themselves into...with their own skills and artistry...Their study and learned expertise revealed itself through the creative birth of animals...creatures...famous characters...one famous painting...a Picasso...titled "Reading"...

Now...I have never been a fan of Picasso...I never understood his view...of life...of love...of the world...all I could see were shapes...boxes...lines...and colors...When someone spoke of his work...I rolled my eyes...I have always loved Monet's mess...standing next to it...you see splotches...dots...vibrant colors...and as you retreat...pull back...the picture comes into focus...I can see his vision...

The young lady who created this...Picasso project...was a quiet girl...distant...body shy...not particularly stunning...somewhat unusual for the gregarious mix of personalities that are actors...or at least...aspiring entertainers...As she walked into the box theater that morning...she was silent...the other students jabbering away...laughing and discussing their excitement...and what was surely going to be the culmination of their success...All the while...she worked diligently...with her back to everyone...and I prepared for this...their final grade...

Each student stepped forward...during the last hour of class...brilliant work...hard work...depth of thought...and joy...encompassed these final presentations...raucous applause...whistles...group respect and thought...encircled the group...as they stepped forward to share themselves...

The last grade was left to be doled out...as the quiet young woman stepped forward...an awkward silence overtook the once loud audience...As I looked at the colors painted on her face...I shifted uncomfortably in my seat...I already felt embarrassed for her...and I contemplated how I would grade this...this...I just didn't know...

In these uncomfortable moments...she reached up...and unbuttoned her blouse...a murmur spread throughout the space...as she withdrew each arm from each delicate sleeve...and as the fabric fell around her waist...I saw it...for the first time...each breast washed with color...her belly lined and painted...and her trembling hands holding the book that completed the picture...She said nothing...and neither did we...It was as if I had never seen art before...she was the embodiment of someone's vision...and...at the same time...she was her own creation...Although she had matched herself to the Picasso portrait...with absolute perfection...she was a work of art...like no other...

Unlike the others in the room...myself included...she had never stood naked on stage...and here she was...in a way that I have never been...as she steadied herself...staring straight ahead...the composition of who she was...became crystal clear...and I was in awe...it was one of the most moving...and bravest...things I have ever seen...

I realized...in an instant...that we are all portraits...some of us are still lifes...some of us are impressionistic...some of us are a Jackson Pollack...just a mess that moves others...and...yes...Picassos too...but most of us remain buttoned up...covering all that is most beautiful about ourselves...We don't speak...when we should...and then emotionally vomit...when only silence is needed...We are perfect in our cubist imperfections...and up close we often look like a mass of colors and dots...and as a special person steps back...they see our complete picture...and if we ever have the courage to stand naked before the world...we are amazing...and explosion of light...and color...a vision beyond words...a gift that can silence the world...all it takes...is that moment of courage...when we allow all our trappings to fall away...and stare bravely ahead...

A beautiful work of art...

Monday, August 12, 2013

Moving On Sale...

I am moving...again...I've never stopped...for a woman who has always wanted a home...I've never found one...and I hear you...what you are saying...home is within you...and you are right...Although...my legs are tired from moving...it's my back that is killing me...weighed down...from a lifetime of carrying everything with me...until now...I'm selling it all...someone else needs to own this...all of this...I can't...anymore...

FOR SALE...several chests...oiled and cared for...holds all of your memories...dreams...and hopes...plenty of room to layer years of wishes and attempts...old loves...old likes...remembrances that others have thrown away...achievements...trophies...and photos of those you've lost...what you thought your were...what you wanted to be...what you hid from everyone...what others thought they hid from you...everything you cannot let go of...

FOR SALE...dozens of paintings...framed...dust free...all the places you wish you had been...still life portraits...living objects that are frozen...easily moved from room to room...but paralyzed in one moment in time...unable to move on...fruit that will never be tasted...trees...whose branches will never sway in the wind...romances that never really existed...and a lonely woman...standing in a field...back turned to everyone...looking on...toward a long hard road that leads no where...

FOR SALE...boxes of clothing...beautiful...ornate...fabrics...that mimic the real thing...items to squeeze...cover up...distract eyes...to create an illusion...of being put together...of youth...of age...of knowledge...of wealth...of freedom...of creativity...of status...of not growing up without...of always belonging...of never sleeping in shelters...or cars...of being worthy of love...more than enough garments to cover yourself up and draw attention away from you...

FOR SALE...furniture...furniture...furniture...large heavy objects...that you can care for more than you care for yourself...pieces to cover the blankness that scares you...ideas that you can sit on...or lay down when trouble comes...or can hold your light for you...all objects can stand for you...on the legs that are as immovable as yours have been...and drawers to stuff...with everything that is normally scattered around for others to see...

FOR SALE...canning supplies...jar upon jar that you shove your creations into...pressure them to stay...and put them on a shelf...that you stare at...

FOR SALE...curtains...drapes for every window...so you can cover all the light...shut out the world...protect yourself from everyone on the outside...you can look at the beautiful colors...and the rest of the world will see blank canvas...assuming you aren't home...

FOR SALE...shoes...so many shoes...in almost mint condition...because...although you purchased them for walking...to adorn your feet...as they carried you to wondrous places...the soles are barely scuffed...because the carpet between your bedroom and the living room...protected them from damage...the damage that might occur...if you step outside and let life happen...

There are some many other items available to store...enclose...protect...cover...distract...and the initial cost is low...but the price you pay will be much higher over time...so don't wait...my doors are open...come and get it...I don't want it anymore...any of it...not one thing...I just want to walk away with myself...every part of me...it seems that all that I am...is not as heavy as what I've used to cover it up...It's time to walk light...I only have half my life left...

So...come on down...all this week...take it all...

Moving on sale...

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Sleeping Through the Storm...

I don't know if you have ever lived through a hurricane...it is a phenomenon the has to be experienced...to be truly respected...It builds strength...offshore...and appears to be just an obstacle...to those anticipating it's landing...It's winds can reach 100's of miles per hour...and lift a human off their feet...as well as trees...water...and buildings...Then just when you feel the greatest force...the eye of the storm crosses you and all is silent...no birds...no wind...no sound...bright light...peace...It is at that moment...that the fierce...backhand of the storm...reaches out and breaks everything left standing...What can withstand...the first half of the disaster...rarely is left in one piece...as the second half makes contact...

I was 21 when hurricane Hugo ravaged the Carolina coast...Living in South Carolina...where the eye of the storm crossed land...I was also in the first... of a long line of dysfunctional...abusive relationships.  I had definitely been practicing at finding individuals...who would wreck my life...taking no prisoners...but...this was different...this was a real storm...destined to level everything...leave me homeless...out of work...destitute...and isolated...No...this was not a metaphor for my life...this was tangible...

My boyfriend's family...insisted...that we stay with them...their home was safe...it looked safe...secure...It was brick...strong foundation...great expanses of space...yes...this would be a wise choice...to keep he and I in one piece...and his family would support us...protect us from this natural disaster...I would leave this in their capable hands...

As we settled in...he and I...the winds began to swirl...hurling their sarcasm...with the tree branches...and the debris of broken dreams...I looked out my window and saw the impending doom...and grew sleepy...very sleepy...My eyelids began to droop...fluttering shut...drawing me deep into the belly of his family...I was hypnotized by the screams and violence around me...lulled and rocked by the crashing and crunching...the howling and searing tears falling from the sky...soon...my eyes closed...I slept deeply...and long...just like the long naps of my childhood...

When my eyes opened...to the bright morning...and scattered wreckage...devastation...I heard...in the distance...She is an odd one...quite weird...I've never known anyone to sleep through something like this...Ah...Mom...she's an idiot...Yes...I guess you are right...It was confirmed...without my voice...that I lacked the skill...or the will...to remain awake...watchful...alert...to impending danger...and unable to protect myself...

Years...a lifetime of cruel...cruel storms...I slept through...pulled deep...into a personal coma...waking only after the wreckage laid...at my feet...I often tried to force myself awake...maintain open eyes...and yet...I still walked...as if in a dream...into the jaws of hurricanes...whipped and bruised...I would gather myself together...gently picking up the pieces that I could find...Each time...I moved on...with some tiny element of my being missing...I almost disappeared...until the day that I didn't...

I stumbled...I fell over...I crawled...I dragged myself out...away from the craziness...the violence...and I didn't trust the eye of the storm...I remained awake...I knew it would end.. but...the next time...I would head the other direction...away...to real safety...maybe...not to return to the same spot...able to admit that sometimes...it's time to leave...with dignity intact...

It's odd...now...that there was a time I could sleep for hours...for days...Those days are gone...I find that I sleep little...and do more...taking small cat naps in between tasks...They say...there is no rest for the weary...I don't believe that's true...when we are weary in spirit...that is often when we sleep the most...and should be sleeping the least...During a hurricane...it is the weakest...most complacent trees that go first...quickly...and the deeply rooted...alert ones can survive...what they can't run from...It seems to me that I've slumbered enough for two lifetimes...Maybe...it's more important that I remain awake...vigilant...and no more...

Sleeping through the storm...

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

If I Never had Lost...

This past year...I have been quiet...much of my time...In my blog...posts have been minimal...professionally...my voice has been muted...by others and myself...by conditions...beyond my control...I have felt stifled...gagged...suppressed...and oddly...oppressed...and so...the result...is the inability to speak...and so...I feel silent...I empowered others to speak...my students...my friends...but my voice...I allowed to be strangled...and so I lost...everything...

My childhood into adulthood was my training ground for silencing my own voice...by the request...and for the needs of others...You would think that I would have learned...to stop loving...to stop believing...but I didn't...I saw each situation as a new one...somehow different than all the others...and that now my silence would be most appropriate...and each time...I lost...everything...

Losing everything is a skill that I have developed over a lifetime...refined and perfected...to that point that I can be in the midst of losing everything...and all those around me...are completely unaware of the mass exodus of my acquisitions...physical and emotional...and as I have watched the doors fly open...once again...and a great tornado pulls seemingly everything I own away...to a great spinning core...where all becomes the splintered remnants of my...yet...greatest attempt...just as I shake hands...once again...to loss...in this most vulnerable moment...I realize the truth...loss means nothing to me...except...for the loss of the ability to love...to believe...

I believe that the day I stop believing...stop loving...I will die...I will be come one of the walking dead...an empty shell...truly alone...Others can take...and take...I can be stripped naked...strangled...muzzled...battered...but no one can take...my ability to love...to believe...I have to give that up myself...and if I did...what would be left...

Many would say...that I have experienced enough...that my willingness to risk everything...to leap...eyes wide open...into abyss...after abyss...believing that there is something for me when I land...that this is inappropriate...that I am inappropriate...and enough is enough...and my response is...who are we to say what is enough...the only way to know if something is meant to be yours...is to risk losing it...or risk having it...

Many would say...this is not for everyone...and I say...why not...is it not our gift to ourselves to try many...many things...knowing that only a precious few...will remain in our lives...the rest we will let go...or have them ripped from our fingers...and that this fierce loss is what saves us from losing ourselves...the universe protecting us...clearing the deck...for that next great thing...those faces...those lives...those moments...that life free of regret...that wisdom gained...the new beginning...again...

So...let the winds rise....let the oceans crash...let the fires burn away all that I own...let others deny me...let my back feel that I can take no more...I spread my arms wide...so that my heart is open...exposed...so that all can see my frailties...and my strengths...so that any enemy of living...can shoot arrows at my spirit...for I will not die...I will not die...until I decide...and although my dignity may be dirtied and bruised...I will love again...I will believe...and how do I know this...because...I have done this so many times...I have lived...and will continue...and I could never have done this...

If I never had lost...

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

I Believe in Peanut Butter Cups...

I have always been an idealist...a dreamer...a true believer...almost to my detriment...Even as I charted my course through the stormy sea of my childhood...and the uncharted waters of my adult life...I have always believed...believed...that if I believe...it...whatever it is...it would happen...and so has my life unfolded....

I teach young men and young women now...halflings...part adult...part child...and many live lives...where they find it impossible to believe...where dreams are dangerous...and so is reality...They often walk on the edge of a slippery...deep...cup...where every moment puts them in danger of sliding in...tumbling into a tiny world...with no escape...a prison...in their own minds...

I wish I was being over dramatic...I'm not...as much as I dream...I have this part of me that has emerged...all realist...it is with these eyes that I see my students...and I have been there...on that precipice...in danger of falling...sliding into nothingness...what I felt I was...nothingness...

Over the past months...two of my young women...have spoken to me about their desires...big dreams...which pained them...because they felt there was no way...no way in hell...that they would ever...and they told me...they consulted...they pleaded with their eyes...what should I do...is it wrong to ask...and I told them...keep pushing...don't stop...what steps can you take...and each time they fell...they came back...back for more...more hope...and I scooped it up and gave it to them...with my cup...the one I wield...instead of balancing on the edge of these days...

Last week...one of my gals...sat...head in hands...moist eyed and trembling lipped...it's not going to happen...I can't find a job...I'm going to be stuck here...I'll never get out...and...I put down my cup...and lifted her with all my might...my spirit trembling...my voice calm...We are going to get you a job...But no one wants me...Yes they do...they just don't know it yet...next Wednesday...they will know you...we will go together...we will find them...

And so Wednesday came...and met my weary body and soul...and my girl...leading another girl...shining eyes...hair in place...lip gloss...and mascaraed eyes...imperfect perfection...my god...was that me...many years ago...is this what believing is...and somewhere in my body...I felt it...that swelling...bursting feeling...when you know...you just know...and they drank from my cup...softly giggling...as we walked to my car...

I drove us to the first store on our list of stops...a small store...that held no more promise than any other...We took a moment...to straighten our shoulders...throw back our hair...and stare the wind...straight in the face...Hello...may I speak with a manager...I am...My name is Mickie Lewis...and I would like to introduce you...to two of my wonderful...hard working students...who are looking for summer employment...This is such perfect timing...we are in desperate need of people...and we were going to send someone to your school...to recruit...

As I watched my girls...stand straighter...speak more politely...and glow from inside out...it seemed the dingy walls fell away...and the merchandise...held so much promise...and as they shook hands with the woman...I'm so glad you came in...I so hope that I get to work with you...in my store...I saw it...it...the it...someone wants me...me...me...me

The last stop...another store...where I purchased a king size Reeses for a dollar...and sat in the car...with my two new disciples of dreaming...burgeoning believers...I offered them one...in celebration...a different cup...than the one that they had been balancing on the edge of...They stole glances at it...not used to this feeling...believing in it...that it might disappear...It's here...it's real...today happened...this cup seals the deal...once you eat this...it's part of you...you'll never look at a Reeses the same again...and I watched as they reached with trembling hands...for this sweet confection...glistening eyes...and took a bite...they believed...and so I...I believe in it...the it...and all of it's magic...and

I believe in peanut butter cups....

Monday, May 6, 2013

No...You Were Right

They say that the impression that is the most honest...the most truthful...the most lasting...happens in the first 6 seconds... not when you are listing your skills...not when you are sharing anecdotes...or dazzling with witty retorts...It all comes down to the moment you first connect...hand touches hand...or not...voice greets  voice...and eyes meet...or not...In those precious few seconds...a belief is formed...the subconscious speaks loudly and freely...and the opinion is locked in...You can  rationalize forever...but the impression has been made...like a hand sinking into quick drying cement...or the moment you realize a flower is a weed...

Your first instinct...there is a big problem here...a roadblock...an impassable impasse...Pause...No...I'm just creating a problem...you say to yourself...The eyes shift...not quite meeting your gaze...then shift back...They smile...a seed has been planted...

You overcome the moment...with sunny disposition...and water it with generosity and hopefulness...and so the seed splits...and the first sprout appears...Delicate and tender...you see this as growth...the beginnings of something new...sure to blossom into the most wondrous flower...vibrant and swaying in the beams of your positive thoughts...but then...for a moment...weren't you positive that this would not work...ah well...it was only six seconds...no time to weed through your thoughts...Maybe...you were wrong...

The clock ticks...and the relationship is in its first days...the tiny leaves are breaking away from the stem of your first encounter...Surely...this will be the most beautiful bud...possibly an azalea...oohh...maybe a rose...and so your hopes rise...You are lifted to unimaginable heights...as you imagine the future growth...The higher this potential floral explosion reaches...the hazier the remembrance of your first thoughts...a bit like the haze that drifted across their face...when you first reached for their hand...and they leaned away from you...But...now...that you are thinking more clearly...you can see that they were just being respectful...How could you be so wrong?

The roots appear to be setting...as you feel that you are finally planted firmly...on your own two feet...How wonderful this is that you have matured...grown...and that you see things...as they truly are...except for that little...sharp...spiny...or is it a thorn...coming out the side...or sticking in yours...But...you know...there is always bad with good...a bit of uncomfortability?...Is that a word?...well...maybe you will use it...surely ...it should be...you're all about conforming to...you mean confronting the new...keep your head about you...or you'll lose this...by being wrong...

A few weeks later...or a month...a pod develops...odd looking...angry...no...ugly...no...that's unfair...you're not giving it a chance...it just needs time...time heals all wounds...like that scratch that you received from...that thing on the stem...that pierced you...you bleed...but only for a moment...there were a couple of minor gouges...but nothing...you know...serious...You...must have misunderstood...it wasn't it's fault...you weren't paying attention...you needed to be more considerate...yes...you were in the wrong...

One day...that pod...rears it's head...cracking open...pushing...curling back...to expose...something you can't describe...you've lost your words...you can't put your finger on it...literally...or is that figuratively...maybe both...But...you are so invested in this...this thing...this no named neediness...this over arching aching...maybe from the sore...no...it's from the heart...you're pretty sure...it must be love...or it will be eventually...and this growing entity...will absolutely...thank you...thank you for all the time...the moisture you've teared over it...the efforts...the hours...and the clouded hope...you have given...surely...about this...you can't be wrong...

Because...the blossom you felt you flowered...now burns your eyes...keeps you up at night...sleepless...blowing your nose...tearing up...raw skin...swollen...and keeps you from breathing...No matter how hard you try...to believe...something would change...after those first six seconds...it didn't...you did...you trusted the untrustable...instead of trusting your instincts...A weed is just a weed...it's always a weed...and you know it...you cannot make it a flower...your lavishing love doesn't have that power...about this...one can never be wrong...

So...when you whacked it down...and everyone shook their heads...saying...how could you do that...maybe it would have been beautiful...yes...it felt uncomfortable...yes...you are allowed to wonder...yes...you may appear ruthless...But...when you sleep the night through...finally...know...don't question...in the beginning...

No...you were right

Monday, April 8, 2013

Deep in My Soul...

I haven't written for a very long time...an extended case of emotional laryngitis...I've thought things...many things...thousands of things...and been unable to verbalize them...now it's time...

If lives were a dime a dozen...then...I could say that I have had...at least...nine of them...Each one began with grasping at a brass ring...I have broken glass ceilings...I have crashed through walls...I have brought empires to their knees...and looked up at others...from stony floors...I have been a lover...a loser...a winner...a failure...an addict...an angel...a rebel...and...at times...the devil.  But, every step...every decision has been from my heart...I have felt it break...beat faster...melt...stop...skip...and fill to overflowing...yet...it is my inner self...that I worried for the most...

And so...I reached for...everything...I have tried it all...I have given up...fallen down...only to stand up again...dust myself off...and drag myself...dirty and ragged...to the finish line...just in time for the next race...alone...hoping...to find that I too...had a soul...

I've never felt that I fit...that I belonged...mostly because of the way that I was raised...but partly...because I did everything that...everyone...said couldn't be done...Even now...I am one of the oldest Teach for America corps members...in my region...I teach outside of the box...I have trouble following rules...that box my kids in...and I challenge them to fight...fight for everything...to not let others define them...including me...

So...when my students were working...on another...outside the box assignment...their beautiful faces...dark eyes...furrowed brows...writing until their pencil leads broke...I could not help...but sit in the back of the room and watch...The hushed conversations...traveled from childish...to deep questioning...They were writing about a painting of a woman...alone...adrift on water...aching heart...and white...white like me...

One of my young ladies...turned to a young man and whispered...what is she thinking?...I don't know...said another...How could you know...she's white...we're not...Another face looked up...ask Ms. Lewis...she's white...silence...Then my student...who I was sure...disliked everything about me...turned...irritated...almost angry...she doesn't know...yes she does...no she doesn't...she isn't white...silence...but she is...NO she isn't...she's black like us...silence...she sees our soul...she has our soul...nodding heads...pencils scratching...
I'm sure I cried inside...I felt my heart explode...into a million pieces...brilliant...pulsating...and beyond color...

Somewhere in the room...dimly lit...classical music playing...classic artwork...outside the box...as my beautiful face's found their voices...I found what I had been searching for my entire life...I belonged...I had crossed over...I had become something greater...in a place that I never imagined I would be asked to enter...accepted for all my imperfections...my frailties...my failings...I was not alone...I was being held...as much as I was holding...and...although my feet will travel millions of more miles...before I die...I was home...and I knew it...

...deep in my soul.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Fix and Flip...

There's a second hand Papasan chair sitting in my living room...I purchased her through Craig's List long ago...when I was a person of acquisition...a woman who filled emptiness with purchases...I dragged her around with me...moving her from place to place...never sat in her...ownership mattered most...

After "the divorce"...I decided that it was time to bring her out...put her on my porch for cozy seating...It rained...the cushion was soaked...I laid her in the sun to dry...the cushion faded...I still hadn't sat in her...I rarely sat on the porch with anyone...Maybe...if I put a throw over her...that would make her more inviting...It was...for leaves...snow...and dust...

I moved away from the house...that I had inhabited...with my ex spouse...dragging the chair with me...dust...leaves...and cobwebs...I piled my belongings...into a place...that needed fixing...just like me...the Papasan disappeared...under a pile of boxes...old clothes...stuff...the stuff my life had been made of...The faded...weather worn cushion...hung over the side...barely visible to the naked eye...and the smell of abandonment confused my cat so...that sitting next to her box...she mistook it for...well...her personal place...now everything had been dumped on it...the chair had been used for everything...but what she was designed for...

I chose to leave behind...the life that I had been living...to break away...to find myself...I had long thrown out the cushion of my chair...all that was left of her...were the empty curved bones...So...in an attempt...to give her a new start...I fixed her up...scraped the dirt off...painted her up...changed her look...if you will...and packed her into a vehicle...to bring her to a new place...still lying under the weight of what I could not leave behind...

Six months passed...all my grand schemes and dreams...of how she would look...with the cushion I would get her...of how she would be appreciated...finally...for her great uses and greater purpose...she still sat...no cushion...no comfort...uninviting...and empty...all the moving around...and draping of fabrics...left her untouched...a veritable pariah...in a place that had little to offer...one would think that her hollowness...would have been filled...just because she was the only one in the room...but it wasn't...

Only today...as I began fixing the eclectic mix of items...scattered through my not so new home...I pulled out some soft quilts...not beautiful...but comforting...gently used...loved...I flipped them over her...one to wrap...around the cold heart of her...and one folded to soften how she felt...to others...if someone were to connect with her...two pillows...freckled...older now...but still lovely...admirable...with the potential to be desired...

As I paced the room...restless...awake...I looked at her...surveying...what she had become...as compared to what she was...unsure...if she was worthy of use anymore...and then I went to her...and sat...curling my legs into her tentatively...at first...and then...completely...

She looked nothing as expected...and no passerby would assume...that she offered comfort...or purpose...but it was...in that moment that was no longer secure...that we felt the most comfort..the most comfort I have felt in years...maybe a lifetime...My cat...joined me...no longer confused...about the purpose...And...in the dimly lit room...settling into her...allowing myself to rest...she settled too...a soft creak...a shift...and we both found our home...

Funny...how real homes...need time...patience...weathering...and...when the time is right...a loving...

...fix and flip...