Hide and Seek with Silence

Gettin’ my personal space On!

So much reflection, now that I’m moving back to the House to re-live with my Honey. This tiny apartment has become a fabulous sanctuary. Not in the sense of hiding from anything or anyone…but more where the Soul Goodies are kept. This apartment has become that. It’s quiet, easy to clean, and devoid of the sounds of sports or politics. I’m simply in awe of the spirit lightness of this environment where most is drama free and there is room and time for sitting on the floor or not uttering a word for hours. For years I would watch the folks in Friends as they sat by a window, listening to a melancholy song, rain glossing and beading the panes. I’d think to myself, who the hell has the schedule for THAT? I have that schedule currently(if only the rain would insert the date into its own Outlook calendar). Well, to a point I have that schedule. I still have work and I still stay at our old and to be again, shared space some days of the week.

Teen-a-Ling and I do nest here on school nights generally so that we have our mornings without too much else going on. The third person is a help mainly. Maybe it is just the sense of silence first thing. It’s her and I and sometimes she really is so far from silent. She has radar that turns up her sudden inclination to have the Most to Say just as I start to read something. Right now though, all is wonderful. She has been practicing math in a workbook for over an hour. I downed a cup of Paul Newman Extra Bold coffee and had an apple and oatmeal. I moseyed out of bed near 10am since I decided to sit up until 2am talking to anyone else up at that hour on Facebook and littering my Grandbaby Daddy’s wall with music videos. Because I could. Because I sat in that poofy big chair that reclines with a double bourbon on ice and a laptop. I still have my Christmas tree up and lit and love it. I read in between communications as well.

I picked up Living With Joy and really started to get hints of That Special Feeling…that inspiration and hope that reveals the embers glowing deep within. It’s a book to be relished, to taste and swirl around rather than chug. I felt hopeful that yes, I am still here. The me that I have been missing really is still there. I believe we all get those tugs from somewhere higher that tries to pull us in a positive direction when we get stuck in the daily maze. My authentic self is truly tired of being hidden under the dirty clothes, the have to’s, the schedules, the Good Listener who won’t speak up and say she needs quiet space. So while I think that I’m steering, it’s now the wind subtly changing my course. My goal this year, my all encompassing major goal is to exactly live with joy.

This apartment has been a savior of sorts to my sanity. I’m going to miss it. If I didn’t love a man, I’d be happy here in this bright space with so much potential. I’m going to miss sleeping head to toe with my Teen-A-Ling. She has epilepsy and sleeping next to her puts my mind at ease that if there is a seizure, I know about it. Since we’ve been here though, she’s had very little incident. One seizure. Our lives are so calm here.

And going back, they will have to stay that way. My partner comes with more frenetic energy than I feel I can handle sometimes. His heart is gold and his flaws are those that are put upon any innocent soul. Life has gotten to him in many ways and he is quick to be rallied by Negative energy. He enjoys talking as he thinks, which is tough for someone like me who needs silence….barges of silence. His talking is merely for his own benefit in those cases and he knows this, but what he doesn’t realize is that while he’s helping himself, he is filling up the space that I have available to myself inside. It becomes filled and then needs to filter through so that I can try again to think my own thoughts. Being in this place has kept me in a space of thought that reminds me that yes, I am creative, yes I am passionate, yes I am intelligent. I tend to blame my lack of witticisms on being a parent or being busy or having a 40 hour work week. Really though, all I need is a lot of quiet.

As a result, even Teen-A-Ling is behaving in more advanced ways than she was. It’s been a good ride for both of us. So to this space I’m currently in for another week or so, I send gratitude and thanks.

Joy To the Me!

*Clinkety Clink* (That's a few cubes bathing in my glass)

I thought about so many things today that would make for great fodder. But as life has it and my lack of Omega 3’s, I surmise, I don’t remember what they were.

I’m eating cold macaroni and cheese. Annie’s is the brand, and rice is the pasta. I don’t use milk. I use enough butter to coat the pasta so that it’s super buttery. It really doesn’t translate cold though. Now I know what my daughter has to eat a couple of times a week for lunch. She loves mostly all meals cold. I happen to agree with her when it comes to day old pasta with sauce….tortellini, spaghetti, any pasta with sauce (only not mac & cheese) is all great off a fork for random bites during the day.

We’re hoping for snow tonight. I actually swore off snow after the great Relationship Destroying Storm of October 2011. That one was so much fun for about 10 hours. The ensuing five or so days without power or heat was much less comedic and more or less ran along the lines of hostile. But tonight I am simply hoping that school is cancelled tomorrow. I used to bounce out of bed in the early morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed – annoying to many – especially after a good party the night before. Now I wish to not have to leave my bed before 8am. I wish it, but damned civilization has it’s time schedules.

I’ve become quite lazy in certain respects in the last year or so. I did work out tonight. Hula hooped while watching Suburgatory, which I believe counts. But I admit, I did not shower. I don’t want to wash my hair every day. And our shower set up would serve as a great prank for someone large and out of patience. I’m neither but still. There are somehow two shower heads and water trickles out of one with enough pressure to show wetness on your skin, while the other is hand held…the one that you really want to use. That one has no place to put it down however, so it can hang by it’s hose and spray all over the place or else you can McGuyver it into a steady position by using the shampoo rack.

So no. My hair is not clean. Not by American standards, anyway. I’ll take What is Not Washing The Protective Oils Out Constantly for $500 and no split ends, Alex.

On my way to and from work when I go into the office I pass a lake that is beautiful in every season. It’s pretty small as far as lakes go. It is the home of three swans. I’ve been watching them for a few seasons. There are the parents and then one “baby”, who is now the size of the parents, probably a teen, who is still gray. Whenever I pass the lake, I have to locate them before passing the lake entirely or else I feel weird. I wonder how many others track these swans on a daily basis as well. The lake finally froze over last weekend and when I’d passed them last it appeared that they were fine, sitting on top of the ice, but I couldn’t say for sure if they were on top of it or if they were frozen into it. So I obsessed about it over the weekend and started googling whether or not swans can freeze themselves into water. I’d always automatically thought that wildlife had this information down pat in their DNA, like figuring out how to procreate. But apparently I did find an article online about approximately 100 swans being frozen into a lake, needing human intervention. So I upped the ante on the worry fest. I was happy to note though that the swans are indeed fine. They bring me a lot of joy when I see them to and fro.

I did a little reading tonight, Sanaya Roman and Orin, “Living with Joy”. I read this book when I was about 22 or 23 and it was the second book to have a profound effect on me, the first being Fit for Life by Marilyn (and so and so) Diamond (can’t remember her hubby’s name). I bought the 25^th anniversary book of “Living with Joy” and wondered how it would feel to read it now. All these years later after so many relationships and highs, let downs, lessons and tip of the iceberg wisdom. Would it move me at all? I don’t know yet but one of my goals for this year is to exactly live with joy. I want that shite as a blanket! A sound system! An incense that fills the room! A drink! I want the oil that keeps my mind cranking out thoughts to be joy joy joy!

But I’ve discovered one block to joy. Your kid’s homework. Buzzkill! Working on that one.

I have joy today – my Christmas tree is up and lit still (I love little white lights), I enjoy my ride to work listening to music, seeing the (not Bella) swan family, talking to my guinea pigs, falling in love with trees – so majestic and powerful – and laughing at the banter of co-workers. A job! I have a job and it is the backbone of being able to live as I do. I have a mate who loves me and gorgeous daughters. And as much as I hate being the center of attention in any room, I took a hit today for my grandson, who’s picture was being marveled at. He is a Leo after all, so he would like this someday. I am a Scorpio who enjoys being appreciated, but more quietly than perhaps a Leo. Appreciate me enough to my face and rampant behind my back.

I may turn off the classical station that I have now but I’m not sure. I may just want to get a single of bourbon, leave on the music and sleepily read more about Joy.

2012 Tastes like Joy!

Here comes the first sip of bourbon for tonight. I enjoy it with ice enough so that it all melts and combines smoothly together. Tonight I poured a double. I’m too lazy to want to get up and pour a second single when it’s eventually gone. I’m rather surprised at how much I enjoy bourbon. Actually, the bang of a surprise is that scotch tastes somewhat villainous in a bad way to me now. I used to enjoy scotch, night after night one autumn season a couple of years ago. The other night my mate brought home scotch for us to have again.

Sip.

NOPE.

Sip again.

And again.

I finished it so that I would show appreciation for Honey bringing something home for us to have. I did not want another. The next night I went back to Maker’s Mark.

So much talk of bourbon. Really, I had a therapy appointment today. She suggested that I write often. I already know this but I’m not doing it. I have a journal…somewhere. To me this is scary. That I have one and cannot locate it. That’s not like me to lose something of my own voice out into Anywhere. She’s right though…I should be writing. How else to find my own voice? To sit in my head constantly like I do, watching the Roaring Rapids of thought constantly go by without collecting some in a jar, letting it settle and figuring out what’s in there? Welp. That’s how I do.

She brought up a good point…to figure out who I am and what I want. Pretty basic stuff, right? Easy answer? Yes, for some people. I envy those people. People who carve out their vocation so early in life….they are born with it in their core, before they can even speak. It’s all there, in blood and spine and deep into every cell.

So the phone rang and I talked for over an hour. I may have lost my train of thought. But while on the phone I started to think about working with the raptors and crows. I’d love to volunteer at a bird sanctuary to see what it’s like.

I went to check the mail today and on my way to the mailbox, two crows remembered who I am (and they haven’t really seen much of me in 2 months) and did the swoop and land into a nearby tree. The posture of Feed Me. I keep peanuts in the shell in my car. They got to eat. Wonderful crows…they do remember. And once I throw the food down, I hear them call to their clan that Dinner…Is Served.

So who am I? What do I want? What do I feel really good about? Allow me to pour a small bourbon, get a slice of cake and drink lots of water and I will answer that.

Well I got all settled in and dropped my fork on the floor…..so I have to eat the cake with my hands.

Answer time. I loved my life in my 20s. At 22-ish I was learning more and more about spirituality. I read all that I could on Wicca. At 23 I was meditating nightly and it was something that I craved throughout the rest of the day because it was so good. I was creative, open, opinionated without apology. I would like to harness the best of the joy from that period of time and apply it to the life that I feel is right for me now. I’ve become rather wishy-washy over the last couple of years….not necessarily to the fault of my mate, but I moved into his home and his schedule. I let life dictate what it would. I stopped being outrageously me. My mate has taught me so much about so many things. So now I need to merge the worlds….being in his world and squeezing drops of mine in until the colors are balanced. He is doing a great job at helping me.

I want Spirituality. I want Meaning. Hunger for Knowledge….but not in vain….no the hunger must not lead to starvation, it must be fed and satiated. I want more of a life with the wild. With the animals. I am capable of enjoying people (in doses) and in general really do love and have compassion for the human race. Animals are more compelling to me. I really can’t ignore it. When I was six, the job that I wanted as an adult was Zookeeper. I asked my friends to join me but they didn’t want to clean poop….one detail that I hadn’t thought of. So back at that age, what I wanted was to take care of animals.

Well it is time to go read. I promised myself if I were good and wrote, that I would get to read. It’s quarter past eleven and I’m fairly buzzed. Maybe this will give me the heavy sleep and the clarifying dreams that I would so enjoy.