sleepy

she says it all...
sleepy sleepy,
time for bed.
not many hours behind,
not enough ahead.
so close my eyes I shall
experience simpleness
bless the angels about me
the Lord is in my bed.

advice

don't you hate it when someone
tells you how to live your life?

I witnessed the effects of good intentioned
advice tonight...it was not asked for nor appreciated.

this poor woman, I've been there myself,
is going through divorce proceedings
and shared a bit about that tonight.
she was on the verge of just outright
bawling...and instead of allowing space
to grieve, she was cut off with a funny anecdote.

why are we so afraid of silence?
uncomfortable tears?
having been there I know what I need
when crying...an ear. that's all.

this room we share (in divorce recovery)
is flourescent, huge, with chairs scattered,
and crossed legs.

I feel angry that the surroundings are full of chaos
and bright lights. as if we are under this probing light
expected to pour out our hearts contents.

if I am asked to share my shit,
please do not analyze and interpret.

please give me my space to rage
and cry and mend.

thankfully I am surrounded by friends who seem
to understand space. I am utterly amazed
by these friends who
can just be with me in my shit.

maybe that is why I was so pissed off tonight
when I saw "facilitators" act so carelessly.

there has to be room for mistakes and I grant
that to these facilitators, but it seems to happen every
week. these are people who have gone through
divorce themselves, but hey, give us a chance to
go through it now. ok?

enough. it's been expressed.


can be with them in their time of need.

abbey and me

had to add this bit...a local artist some how captured my cat and I so well I just had to share it. she the solemn, royal one...me the crazy one dancing in her pj's over the city. really, it's remarkably true to both our characters.

the movie of the day 

конец - the end

I looked into a website that translated english words into other languages. the word today is "end". hopefully the above Russian word is what I intended it to be for....the end.

walking throughout Woodland Park Zoo today, my friend and I noticed the unique wonders the animals seem to possess.

shape, the texture and length of an animals coat, their expressions, God they are walking art pieces, they are beautiful, they are we. it moved me to tears to think of their captivity, they are so far from home. do they like it there? do they even know the difference between a few inches of earth and miles and miles of more? I felt really sad today and my friend said to just be me and not worry about making her feel comfortable. she is a special person, this friend. so, when I would moarn for their loss, she sort of felt it too and yet knew I could not dwell on it too long. my dear friend, walking that tight rope with me, so dear.

I do sound morose, don't I? well, it's where I am at some days. and others not so much. yesterday, I wrote about the green wonders of plants. that joy is still with me. but so is the pain of loss. I can't and won't let the pain be buried, it just has to be present with me. I accept that. I know that I can not hide from it. My dear Lord is with me. I know that too.

a film is playing now, here in my apartment, "Truly, Madly, Deeply". I first saw it at the San Francisco Film Festival with my mum. it's a really poignant, deeply moving film about the death of a partner. the main character mourns with such passion, totally uninhibited. I haven't seen it for such a long time and felt it would be good to see now. thank you Netflix. at times, I feel pain but keep the wailing within. I don't want to make anybody uncomfortable, including myself?

how is it possible to be sad and still have "chacah"?

green

baby tears, have you ever seen this beautiful plant?
years ago I saw them in my dear friends home. She (Mary) had a terra cotta pot filled with these light green gems. The light from a nearby window made the little baby leaves glow. Literally, ever since then I have looked for them, but have had no luck.

My luck changed last weekend while wondering around Queen Anne Hill, I actually found them! I grabbed my seemingly one and only chance and purchased three pots for $3.99 each...yes!

Amazing, what great pleasure comes from these green friends. I've always been intimidated by plants. similar to how I used to feel with children. give me a camera or a computer and I can just play to learn. but, with plants and children, it has been different. with children, they always seem to know more then they admit to. they seem like little prophets. sometimes angels, and sometimes, well, not. but perceptive. over time I have discovered that yes, children are amazing, but they are also simple, they just want to be loved.

then there are plants. they seem intense, vulnerable. it seems that they could so easily be killed. I want to enjoy the life they offer, but am not sure how to contribute to that life. sounds like these fears are similar to those I used to experience with children. to make it easy, I just avoided them all together. here again enters Mary. her approach to all kinds of living is simple and beautiful. she digs dirt, slips in a seed and if it grows, she sparkles with glee, if it doesn't she still seems to sparkle. her life does not depend on the result, she truly enjoys the process. she and her daughter, Chloe have planted many little seedlings...not sure what came of them, but I know they enjoyed the ride.

so, here I am. I have purchased some baby tears and are watering them (no pun intended).

here's a funny note, recently I had some girl friends over and gave each of them a plant. I wanted them to know that they meant a great deal to me and so gave them something that meant a lot to me. so, after finding them, I gave them away. I guess I am learning to enjoy the ride too!


feeling really grateful for the spring!!

loss

Am I having feelings, or what?

Let’s see… Loss feels like a sunburn that lingers and burns and stings and laughs at my attempts for beauty.

I attempted to live a life with a man that could in no way offer me true love and/or safety. How did this happen?

Sure, feelings are often a blurring of reality. But that does not take the sting away.

If I could take the hours, days, months, years away and return to life before Joe, would I? Of course, I have no way of knowing. All I have is today, yesterday is gone.

I want so desperately to know safety again. To wake up and not have this stinging and sorrow. Why does it hurt so much?

Ok. I chose to divorce this man who hurt me. Not only that. But, I chose to wait two and half long years for a “sign” that it was ok with God to do so. I did feel this. I am grateful that it came.

However, now I face incredible loneliness and loss. Sure, the loss is a broken marriage, but still, the loss of dreams is real too. As a child, I didn’t dream of what marriage would be like. I had no dreams of what a wedding day would look like. So, when it happened it stunned me. I feel like I haven’t lost my dreams of wedding days, but instead my companion tomorrows.

open 

open

Before God...never forgotton.
flesh and bone...we face our fears not with Armani pants and Prada shoes, not with painted faces or fashion flash.
we face our fears humbled and dependent on Great Light, Extreme Love, King of the lost and broken. Jesus Jesus Jesus...you are our Holy Father and Warrior King come to set us free from slavery. set us free.
we are unable, but willing.
broken, but not destroyed.

for good

Below are some prints that stood out the most today.
The artist has travelled to beloved India and has captured her as she is: elegant, bold, soft and rich in her dress and movement.
truly, places like India get into your skin and no matter what happens, a piece of our heart is given to her, perhaps in the hope of returning someday or perhaps to make sure there is never too much distance between ourselves and these places that feel like home.

Taj Mahal 

gold turbans 

Indian Rubies

this one especially caught my eye...children are given such diverse experiences in life through culture, faith system, economic status, etc. As a social worker, the darker side of certain experiences come to mind.

my heart utterly breaks to think of the atrocities committed against our children, the children of our world. I am not a mother, but that gutteral, deep booming roar is very present when I consider what many children suffer before they reach "adulthood". It is a very good thing I am not God, because I would not be nearly as patient as He, nor as gracious.

yet, as I write this, I am reminded of a friend I knew years ago. We met at church and since we had mutual friends, got to know eachother pretty well. He was very honest in admitting/confessing/sharing that he had been accused of touching a child in a sexually inappropriate way. Maybe it was because I saw how broken this person was, maybe it was his struggles that caused me to have compassion for him. Whatever it was, I could relate and could embrace him as a brother, knowing we are all just messed up and in need of God.

Does this make me a hypocrite? Sure, I can condemn somebody I don't know, but it's more difficult when I have held on to a friend when he cries and can feel his pain.

I do not in any way feel that sexual abusers who have "confessed" their sins should be trusted with children or given priveledges that others have who have not done such things. Children DESERVE to have beauty and safety, no matter what. But, thinking of my friend now, I feel less hatred towards the persons sinning in this way.

thankful for blogging this now. no point in judging.
just want these beautiful children to have all God has for them...the utmost.

art

I went to Best of Northwest Art show down at Sandpoint today. This is a fantastic opportunity to explore art created by local artists. My dear friend, Mary Ann Nagy has her art there and I "help" out so I can spend time with her and of course, to be wooed by the art. So, below are a few artists that really caught my eye today.
* "hello" (my title, not hers) is by: Jill Mayberg. I can't find her website but will post it later, if anyone is interested.
* "puppy" (my title) is by Leigh Jackson, her website: www.noisydogstudio.com
* "life" (my title) is by Juli Adams. www.juliadams.com

really fantastic artists. had a great time.

life 

My dream puppy, Wire Fox Terrier

puppy
someday this little buddy will be mine...to stinkin' cute!

hello 

flowers

a friend recently commented on the vulnerability revealed to who knows who through blogs. why do we share our deepest pains, written as it were on the store fronts of any city? do people pass by and wonder about the meaning? is our world so isolated that words are expressed on store fronts with the hope of someone coming inside to hold our hand and light a candle? I don't feel shame as I pursue truth through this form. for some reason, the feelings inside come out when I write. for me, it is a blessing to share. but my friend, has a really good point. why do we reveal our inner person so freely? it is a modern concern. and yet, there is nothing new under the sun. in what ways did our ancestors do the same thing?

books are even more risky. write a book with your name attached and the store front could have flowers next to it or be smashed by flying stones. it is human to want to share our experience.
that's all I can think of.

that allusive thing

Good Morning..
I have returned to the place of my blogger birth, Hotwire Cafe.

community is never easy to realize and in these modern times, I find it is something we desperately yearn for, yet it slips through our fingers, that allusive thing.

I am not a learned professional who knows statistics, who has written books and developed schemes in which to bring community about. hardly. in fact, I am one of those who wants companionship but, finds it much easier to just isolate and meet my own needs. does that make me different or am I in fact just like you?

Anyway, the reason I hopped onto this topic this morning is because Hotwire is a really cool place that offers music at night, coffee and if you so choose, backgammon and chutes and ladders by day. It is in fact, a regular community center...well, sort of. Coffee isn't free and in fact, neither is this internet service. So, building community costs something. hmmm.

what does it cost to build community?
it costs looking out of sort and well, just not all together.
it costs me time.
it costs me love.

what does community offer?
it offers acceptance.
it offers me purpose.
it offers me love.

without sounding so corny, isn't it worth it to just be real. be willing and available. why not open up? why not lay it all down?

I love to ask questions because then, I don't have to have all the answers.
rather sneaky snake of me, huh?

so, whoever is reading this. thanks.
you have been a good listener.