O'Blessings

A beautiful St. Patrick’s Day…the sun is shining and the weather is mild. The shiny, sleek crows made their rounds in the yard this morning.

I have been under the weather the past couple of days….a small flu it seems. Sweating keeping the mate awake at night with my Excorcist type of shaking due to chills.

But I am Irish, with one of them there O’ type names and so I’ve decided to get my caffeine fix with Irish tea, which is going down much easier than my usual beloved coffee. My beloved and I usually like to shower together. Today he ushered me in (he is tough loving my illness and trying to get me up and around more than I feel like doing so) and as we stood there washing, I remarked that I am surprised there wasn’t some giant oil slick of sweat on the bottom of the tub from my 2 days of perspiring as if it were a full time job.

I’ll tell you what IS a full time job though. Filling out one bracket for the March Madness basketball tournament. Now fill out nine more and you have put in time that you wish you were paid for. I’m newer at this sports thing…only finally “joining them” because when living with a sports freak, you are in denial if you think you are going to beat them. Especially my dude, who will play by play it for you and tell you all about it even when you don’t want to hear about it. But because I love my honey, I don’t like telling him to just shut up already….who knows what I might gain from the conversation. I’ve learned a few things by listening to things that I normally would shut out.

By the same token, sometimes I would just like some quiet and don’t always want to hear about anything that isn’t of my own interest.

But today, feverish or not, it is a day of blessings and I think I will enjoy what the day brings…no expectations except to be open and experience.

Purr a Little Dream

My devilish and affectionate Azrael sleeps to the right of my head at night. Sometimes I wonder if our dreams are intermingling like osmosis. I think about that with my mate at times too.

Sometimes we will sleep and then share what the feature movie was in our heads for the night. There has been a time or two that it has been the same theme between both of us. So I figure that our heads are close and our thoughts must be weaving and flowing from one to the other.
*
There’s a point where I have to feel out my comfortability in the daily flow of events.

I am still not sure of where what dot is colored in on the number scale from one to ten. When I dismiss deep thinking, and at the same time, engage deep thinking, I can feel Ok with it. I’m not sure if I am mostly ecstatic, but I am ok and moments of happiness creep up and tickle me when I least expect them. Those moments can happen solely inside of my mind much of the time. Anticipating Something. Maybe anticipating the weekend. Or reading a chapter in a book. Or one of those fabulous cupcakes from a local bakery around here. The frosting is never that gritty, sugary kind, but is fully the buttery kind, on a type of chocolate embalming fluid on top of a moist cupcake.
*
I can observe the non verbal cues. When Bill Maher music comes on, even though no one is talking, there is a preemptive volume increase made with the remote. As if to form a barrier that says “You must not speak. If you do, the volume may go Imax on your ass.”
*
We had our time in couples therapy tonight. For a couple that isn’t married and has been together for a year and a half, it sounds like we are war worn and weary on the Benatar Battlefield of Love. I think people partially go to therapy to have a referee. It works for me. There are things not discussed so much at home as much anymore and then it is brought up on the chairs. It’s amazing to show up happy, hot beverages in hand, having spent the day with natural affection…..then walk out with someone capable of steaming vegetables on their head. There are some strange perceptions among us. And I don’t know about other couples but when the ugly gets on, it’s like a switch flipped and this can’t possibly be the person that was so gentle and sweet earlier. There were definitely things to discuss in an uncomfortable arena. But I guess you don’t show up to talk about how nice those office lamps are. Well…he dove in and threw a conversational grenade on the place.

I am surprised that during the vein bulging parts I was not shaking my legs up and down like I always do. In therapy they always point out the discomfort gage of my knees bouncing up and down. Today though, there would be no such pointing. I folded a little piece of paper up into a small rectangle. I attempted to fold it very small but at one point, it wouldn’t fold anymore. So I folded it in the opposite direction. And back again.

And so today, it is Clean Slate day. It is Enjoy life….and if there is a chance of getting hurt in this relationship, I will live. I’ve done it before.

I’m going to stop worrying. And therefore maybe help him not worry also. Freedom is mine….to share of course. My mind will be free. I am going to trust in order to allow my mind to go to newer channels instead of hanging out in the old mind haunts. We are so much more often than we know, our own worst enemy.

Standing up to the challenge of growing pains. And through the challenge, is a warm, cozy center where that crazy, happy flow is ushered in a subtle, yet severe way. Now I must remember this for longer than just now, while my eyes dust over the words.

Check out where my wings are coming in!

Where the Mind Floats

The Weather lady on MSNBC this morning seemed to be talking to a bunch of unstable Americans. Her tone during the weather had that feeling of a careful It’s-Going-To-Be-Okay-Now-Come-Down-From-There-With-That-Sword sort of message. Sing songy, no weapons needed….“And up here in Albany, it’s going to be 35 degrees and sunny!!”
*
My beautiful honey, I love that you tell me so much. But I don’t really need to know every single thought running through your head. I think it is more for you than it really is for me. You talk out loud to remember…but I have not yet found storage where I can cart all this information so that I have space left in my head for my own thought rivers to flow without dams.
*
I’ve heard the car commercials and now I want a swaggering guitar rhythm as my soundtrack when I check the mail.
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My honey saw a headline “Kate’s dress leaked!” and wondered what bodily function of hers failed. I swooped in with my frilly cape and tights and allowed the estrogen to translate the headline to him and let him know that the dress she is wearing was probably leaked onto the internet before she wanted anyone to know.
*
Last night I read an article in the NY Times about Dennis the Menace from Sunday’s paper. I am stubborn Irish and will not give up on reading something until I actually read it. I will carry it around for years until I have finally read it. Yesterday I happened to get to the article sooner than later. The article mentioned Dennis’s evil veins pumping his evil blood and how there was a Starling infestation in his grumpy neighbor’s trees. So Dennis put liver up there and attracted a pile of cats instead. I thought it was timely to have had our own Starling infestation yesterday morning.

I wonder if I would have thought about it any differently had I read about the Starlings on Sunday before seeing them on Monday.
*
After an intimate space with my mate, I spent some time looking up at his face and told him that if I ever were to have one photo only of him forever, it would be the “after” image. The stubble on his face frames and contrasts his lips in a way that only biology can get right.
But the threat of him shaving it off still hangs in the balance.
*
Whenever I ingest lemons or oranges, I feel like I am glowing with sunshine.
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Sometimes thoughts out of nowhere pop into my head. Actually, this one came due to mate’s activity across the room as I work. I’m going to start a band called Angry and Farting. Only he isn’t angry. Just farting.
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The dog is doing ‘Gross Dog Noises’ Greatest Hits’ while I am eating. It all sounds so gross….his snorting and licking that makes his tongue sound like it’s 2 feet thick and has marinated in a vat of saliva for a week. I have to turn on some music to put a buffer between me and this assault of saturated noise.
*
As I was walking back from getting the mail, I noticed that the landlord’s shovel was lying down on the ground. I know that it was previously standing up in snow. The snow has melted. I wondered what that moment in time was where the shovel finally broke free and fainted to the ground.
*
I was putting Humanling to bed and was sitting with her, just relaxing. She was closing her eyes and twirling my hair through her fingers when suddenly her poofy white cat launched off the bed and landed squarely in front of my bad ass hunter cat Azrael. The poofy white thing then sharpened her claws on the carpet in a very deliberate and In Your Face Azrael sort of way, while Azrael sat there with hybrid look of disbelief and boredom.

aMuse Me

This morning I heard a great number of birds squawking about. Upon glancing out of the window, I saw heaps and heaps of black starlings flying into our trees. It looked to be 100-200 of them. They hung out briefly until I opened the door to throw them a piece of bread. I immediately stopped throwing bits down when I realized that it was moldy.

*

I kissed my lover's mouth before going out for a walk in the chilly dusk. He tasted like a room with a cozy, warm fireplace.
*
I came back from my walk and let him know that should I die and someone shows up at my funeral to protest something or disrupt, I have a wish. My postmortem orders are to take the loudest, most disruptive person (should one show up) and throw him in the coffin, face down on top of me. Then slam the lid shut.

Let the person out after a few minutes of course. But maybe make them sweat it out a bit, maybe make them sing a few bars of my favorite Ella Fitzgerald song first or yell through the muffled wood what sign they are. They can get out a minute sooner if they know their moon and rising sign.
*
Honey is trying to close a window on his computer for a Root Mash recipe. He clicks a few times and eventually the sleepy computer catches up on it’s To Do list and shuts down all of his windows. He notes this and then says “Whatever” while getting up to finish making dinner. I said “You just Whatever’d your computer.” He stops for a moment and says “Yes I did.”

*
As I read a simple Buddhism for kids level book to my Humanling as she’s falling asleep, her fluffy white thing of a cat perches on the trunk next to the bed. The fluffy white thing loves my girl more than everything else and waits for her at night, sitting patiently upstairs, waiting for Humanling to finish Whatever It Is and go to the shared space of the bed. Or as we say, “Your ride is here.” The fluffy white thing sees that as I am reading the story, I am also an obstacle blocking the path to a united destiny of cat and human. Kitty looks at my how close Humanling is and then to see how wide the human river of me is that she has to cross.

When I left my mate for a couple of days due to our addiction to bad patterns in disagreements, he sent me an email, among many others, that burst the dam of emotion I was feeling. I stood at work, reading that the cat who hadn’t seen her human in 2 and a half days, had been crying desperately at 4am, looking for her. That finally, my mate, who loves animals but this one is the least favorite in the house. She is quite the long hair, which equates to puffs of hair floating about and the occasional old turd that got stuck in her backside, concealed by all the fur but that eventually found freedom among the floorboards.

He felt so bad for her crying that he called her to come sleep in the bed with the dog and himself. And finicky girl that she is, she actually climbed in.

Reading about Miss Kitty’s heartbreak added 2 more tons of heartbreak to my already broken heart of missing being home with my mate. I cried for the next couple of hours at my desk, crumpled Kleenex piling high in the trash bin.
And took half day and went back home to him.

*
We watched Michelle Bachman speak on one of those nightly MSNBC shows. There is something about her that COULD be so pretty. But when I look into her blue eyes I am really seeing evil skeletor.

*
During my walk tonight I noticed that I’d nearly caught up to a figure up ahead. Eventually she crossed into someone’s driveway, away from the house and into the woods. As far as I know, that direction doesn’t lead to anything that anyone would go to because then it opens into a huge, sprawling field. I would have looked at her some more as I was passing her but that would have been so shady.

For the rest of the night, she has been a mystery for me. A creepy, paranormal mystery.

Soaking In It

I like taking late, quiet lunches at work. If I go at the tail end of serving time, I can sit and read in a decent silence. I’m not anti-social per se, but do enjoy my own quiet space wherever I can get it. At home I am usually in the vocal company of my beloved mate or my Humanling. After hearing everything they are saying at times, my head is full of other people’s thoughts, perceptions, news, concerns and current events. I find that I no longer have creative space in my head at that time. I only have room for the very next Have To Do or Think About. All of it practical.

Space is good for the opportunity for all of the Other’s mind confetti to filter nicely down into my being and disperse where it needs to be filed, like a drain. Only then can I start to have the room for my mind to stretch and breathe, then figure out what it is that I am made of. What I default to in thought and how my mind likes to browse as compared to just taking in constant stimuli that belong to others.

I set my tray down at work a few days ago to have that mind yoga for a small piece of time. I noticed that I read voraciously. I ate slowly. My fork actually went down between bites and I wasn’t eating like a rushed mom.

I read my Dharma Road book for a bit, at one point laughing gratuitously out loud for probably a margin too long for conventional taste those who might be around a solo table guest who is laughing. Eventually I looked up and saw there was another small table in front of me with just one person. A girl who I don’t know was also having lunch alone. It seemed a little different than my experience. She ate quickly, sitting down after I’d been seated and finishing before I left. She fidgeted with the plastic coffee cup lid, pulling it back as she stared out of the window. Then she picked up her lunch receipt and read it. I had my book, she was reading a receipt. Something about that action made me imagine loneliness.

It’s not for me to imagine what is lonely for one person or another. But the act of reading a receipt because there is nothing else to do with your eyes sort of made me feel sad. She then got up, removing her tray and left.

Maybe that was all good with her. Perhaps it is some sort of projection on my part. But I admit that I was happy to have my book. Perhaps I just wouldn’t be happy to just look around quietly during lunch by myself with nothing to read except the receipt that tells me what I already know – what I had and how much it was.

I do enjoy my quiet. But mostly with a book or space to think. And maybe that’s what she was doing….taking her own small space to let her mind stretch.

Not Cool

I understand that law is law.

Having the right to free speech and demonstration is a beautiful thing.

Having the right to stage a demonstration against homosexuals at a funeral of someone who has passed away during their unselfish service to their country is completely immoral. These people served their life for our country. They have acted in a more heroic way than most of us can even imagine doing. And there are people who are going to make the lives of the deceased all about their own selfish discomfort about gays in the military?

I am disgusted that law supports the Westboro Baptist Church with their promotion of this sort of behavior by stating that “God is punishing the United States for the sin of homosexuality”.

People seem to forget … the deceased also have parents. Siblings. Significant Others. How is protesting adding to the value of lessening the suffering of the people suffering their loss? If you want to save lives and think you are doing a service to the world, how about lessening the suffering of the families and leaving them a peaceful last goodbye?

This may very well be happening but I do not hear about anyone protesting their political agendas at the funerals of men who have cheated and borne illegitimate children while married to a different woman.

Or the funerals of crooked politicians.

Or the funerals of Wall Street cheaters.

Yet there are people who cannot think outside of their own selfish drama to see the suffering of family members who are grieving and are willing to interrupt that process and cause even more damage.

Why is this ok? How has death become so unsacred and desensitized? Why not have a vendor stand on the grounds selling hot dogs as well? How have we not evolved enough to embrace love in all of it’s wonderful forms? Don’t we need more of that? Do we not need more of love on this planet? That’s like starving and slapping away a sandwich because the crusts aren’t cut off.

The Mind of March 2nd

Random musings…

The smell of the office when I walk in ….

Coffee
Toasted bagels
Maple syrup

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I sat in the car this morning scanning my ride to death as usual with the radio stations. Broccoli Spears was on with her newest “Hold it Against Me”. I muttered “this song is so dumb” and hit scan again. That’s right Brittany….a 41 year old mother who works at a pharma company, has the nerve to say your song is dumb and turn it onto something else in favor like Lady Gaga or Chris Brown. Because really, who am I?

*

A day was spent yesterday in negative energy….not the best for the mate and I. A series of jabs, ducks and reach outs. Eventually it was time to crawl into bed. Sometimes it’s best to make up without words. Words can be beautiful, words can be dangerous, words can begin and end major events.

I communicated to him with all that my body had to offer and right before giving in, he said “You can’t pick on me all day and then just be up against me.” I laughed and proceeded. It sounded like a green light to me.

And today is the beautiful aftermath.

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My 12 year old gorgeously blossoming Humanling told me this morning that she received a note from the boy she danced with at the Valentine’s Day dance. It said she was annoying with her belching. I told her that boys usually don’t write to a girl unless they like them. At least if the rules carry over from the 1980s.

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When being friendly with your beloved, do not watch a Charlie Sheen interview and then mention that his angry eyes look eerily exact to your beloved’s when he is angry. It causes problems.

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It's going to be a day of magickal saturation. Spring is close, whether the mercury says so or not. The weather will eventually glimpse at the calendar and we will all be gloriously surrounded with fresh, raw scents of earth, flowers and enthusiasm.