Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
Morning
I've challenged myself to take one picture everyday, following a theme my friend shared with me. Here is day one.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Nanna Lou
Today would have been my grandmother, Nanna Lou’s, 100th birthday. She was a very pious and devout woman. When I was eight, she had a stroke that left her paralyzed on one side of her body. With her stroke, she lost her ability to verbally communicate. She would babble on, but we could understand a lot of her meaning through her intonation. She wore a pair of pants for the first time when she was 80 years old. In a wheelchair, it was no longer appropriate for her to wear a skirt. Despite her lack of expressive language, she made it very clear through her vocalizations that she was very unhappy about the pants. In an effort to keep her feet from becoming atrophied, her doctor told my uncle that she needed to wear a pair of high-top shoes. My uncle went to the Shoe Carnival and bought a pair of turquois Chuck Taylors. We were fortunate that Grandma’s vision was affected by the stroke; she would have thrown a fit if she saw those ugly shoes on her feet.
Nanna Lou attended the church of Christ, which does not use any musical accompaniment. When she was admitted to the nursing home, the director insisted that Grandma would love the daily gospel music sing along. Grandma did not like the sing along. She would sit in the room with her one good arm crossed across her body and a frown on her face. When my dad got the report that Grandma would not sing (in her own way) along with the group, he was baffled. Finally, he went with her to the sing along and realized that there was a person that played piano along with the songs. The piano accompaniment was unacceptable to Grandma. Once she was removed from the rec room of blasphemous music, she would sing along with us with great excitement when we sang her church songs. Once we excitedly told her that our friend from church, Mildred, was pregnant. We expected her to react with excitement. Instead, she went off, clearly very unhappy about the news. Dad quickly realized that he had forgotten to tell Grandma that Mildred had recently gotten married. When he cleared that up, her tone immediately went from angry, to the sweetest, happiest tone. Even though she could no longer speak, her spirituality and firm beliefs held up, even after the stroke. That’s such a great testimony to her devotion.
After her stroke, there were only two times that we heard her say an understandable word. The first time was when we took her out to Blue Boar restaurant. As we were leaving, she looked at my dad and very clearly said, “Thank You.” The other time was when we were teasing her. Grandma was a very serious woman. I don’t remember laughing with her a lot as a kid. After her stroke, she laughed a lot more. My dad was telling her about our dog, Molly. Dad asked her who she though was prettier, me or Molly. Again, in a very clear voice, she answered, “Molly,” with a big smile. I could tell she knew that we had understood exactly what she said and was pleased with herself. We all had a good laugh about that.
I always loved her like crazy. Prior to her stroke, if there was a snow day or if I was sick, my mom would take me to her house for the day. She did not have much money and lived on a very tight budget. She received cheese from the government, which she used to make the best macaroni I’ve ever eaten. She grew rhubarb and made an incredible rhubarb pie. Each of the grandkids had their own colored plastic glass. She had bought us each a ceramic bell that was displayed high on the bookshelf in the kid’s bedroom. She wore the knock-off brands of old lady smelling perfume with the dumbest names. “If you love White Diamonds, you’ll love Blue Sapphires.” ON her dresser in her bedroom, she had two pictures of my grandfather. One was a professional picture of him in his military uniform. The other was a picture of him in the middle of an Army camp, wearing only his underwear. I thought that was so naughty as a kid. In the mudroom of her house, there was a place on the wall where she measured and marked each of the grandchildren. It made me so incredibly sad when they painted over it.
Grandma was a subservient woman, but also did some things that did not fit into typical women’s roles of the times. She changed her name when she was 19, from Nanny Lou to Nanna Lou. We did not know this until she died and we read it in one of her journals we found. She said she changed it because there was a girl at her school named Hannah and she thought that was a nicer name than Nanny. She did not get married until she was 30, which effectively made her a spinster. Instead, she focused on her education and career as a teacher. She moved to Louisiana all by herself to teach. She moved back here to teach at Shakertown. Her husband died when she was 45, leaving her to raise four kids all by herself. She continued substitute teaching to support her family. She told a family friend that she never remarried because she knew that she could never love anyone like she had loved my grandfather.
As I mentioned before, she was not happy when she thought that our friend was pregnant without being married. I can only imagine how upset she would have been if she was alive when I got pregnant. I had rougher than normal teenage years; I would have probably given her another stroke had she seen her pierced and tattooed granddaughter. Even so, I know that she would have still loved me and that she would have loved Denali. She loved teddy bears and cardinals. She has been gone for 15 years now, but every time I see a cardinal, I think of her and smile.
Nanna Lou attended the church of Christ, which does not use any musical accompaniment. When she was admitted to the nursing home, the director insisted that Grandma would love the daily gospel music sing along. Grandma did not like the sing along. She would sit in the room with her one good arm crossed across her body and a frown on her face. When my dad got the report that Grandma would not sing (in her own way) along with the group, he was baffled. Finally, he went with her to the sing along and realized that there was a person that played piano along with the songs. The piano accompaniment was unacceptable to Grandma. Once she was removed from the rec room of blasphemous music, she would sing along with us with great excitement when we sang her church songs. Once we excitedly told her that our friend from church, Mildred, was pregnant. We expected her to react with excitement. Instead, she went off, clearly very unhappy about the news. Dad quickly realized that he had forgotten to tell Grandma that Mildred had recently gotten married. When he cleared that up, her tone immediately went from angry, to the sweetest, happiest tone. Even though she could no longer speak, her spirituality and firm beliefs held up, even after the stroke. That’s such a great testimony to her devotion.
After her stroke, there were only two times that we heard her say an understandable word. The first time was when we took her out to Blue Boar restaurant. As we were leaving, she looked at my dad and very clearly said, “Thank You.” The other time was when we were teasing her. Grandma was a very serious woman. I don’t remember laughing with her a lot as a kid. After her stroke, she laughed a lot more. My dad was telling her about our dog, Molly. Dad asked her who she though was prettier, me or Molly. Again, in a very clear voice, she answered, “Molly,” with a big smile. I could tell she knew that we had understood exactly what she said and was pleased with herself. We all had a good laugh about that.
I always loved her like crazy. Prior to her stroke, if there was a snow day or if I was sick, my mom would take me to her house for the day. She did not have much money and lived on a very tight budget. She received cheese from the government, which she used to make the best macaroni I’ve ever eaten. She grew rhubarb and made an incredible rhubarb pie. Each of the grandkids had their own colored plastic glass. She had bought us each a ceramic bell that was displayed high on the bookshelf in the kid’s bedroom. She wore the knock-off brands of old lady smelling perfume with the dumbest names. “If you love White Diamonds, you’ll love Blue Sapphires.” ON her dresser in her bedroom, she had two pictures of my grandfather. One was a professional picture of him in his military uniform. The other was a picture of him in the middle of an Army camp, wearing only his underwear. I thought that was so naughty as a kid. In the mudroom of her house, there was a place on the wall where she measured and marked each of the grandchildren. It made me so incredibly sad when they painted over it.
Grandma was a subservient woman, but also did some things that did not fit into typical women’s roles of the times. She changed her name when she was 19, from Nanny Lou to Nanna Lou. We did not know this until she died and we read it in one of her journals we found. She said she changed it because there was a girl at her school named Hannah and she thought that was a nicer name than Nanny. She did not get married until she was 30, which effectively made her a spinster. Instead, she focused on her education and career as a teacher. She moved to Louisiana all by herself to teach. She moved back here to teach at Shakertown. Her husband died when she was 45, leaving her to raise four kids all by herself. She continued substitute teaching to support her family. She told a family friend that she never remarried because she knew that she could never love anyone like she had loved my grandfather.
As I mentioned before, she was not happy when she thought that our friend was pregnant without being married. I can only imagine how upset she would have been if she was alive when I got pregnant. I had rougher than normal teenage years; I would have probably given her another stroke had she seen her pierced and tattooed granddaughter. Even so, I know that she would have still loved me and that she would have loved Denali. She loved teddy bears and cardinals. She has been gone for 15 years now, but every time I see a cardinal, I think of her and smile.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
two months ago...
I told you that my life was almost always exceptionally great, but that I was having a hard time. I considered myself in between greatnesses.
I'm back in greatness.
The past week has been incredibly good. There has been closure from old wounds that I thought would take a lot longer to heal. There have been people reaching out to me, from seemingly nowhere, to tell me exactly what I need to hear. There have been very clear messages received. There have been fears that have been appeased and lessened. There has been a ton of dancing. There has been new favorite music that I can't (and don't want to) get out of my head. There has been incredible generosity and providence. During the past two months, greatness felt few and far between. In the past week, I feel like I have boarded a plane in Nebraska, where there are plenty of beautiful things, but not the things that I wanted, flown on a really turbulent flight, then arrived safe and sound in the middle of a new city that already feels like home.
I'm back in greatness.
The past week has been incredibly good. There has been closure from old wounds that I thought would take a lot longer to heal. There have been people reaching out to me, from seemingly nowhere, to tell me exactly what I need to hear. There have been very clear messages received. There have been fears that have been appeased and lessened. There has been a ton of dancing. There has been new favorite music that I can't (and don't want to) get out of my head. There has been incredible generosity and providence. During the past two months, greatness felt few and far between. In the past week, I feel like I have boarded a plane in Nebraska, where there are plenty of beautiful things, but not the things that I wanted, flown on a really turbulent flight, then arrived safe and sound in the middle of a new city that already feels like home.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
In ten days, I'll be turning 28. I found my first gray hair this week. It made me really happy. To me, it represents age and with that age, experiences that make me into a wiser person that is better able to deal with life. The past year has been the best year of my life. I have been able to discover adult Lauren. I have found a lot of freedom in rebelling against the things I used to rebel against. It is nice to feel more normal and not like such an outcast or black sheep. Realizing that the label of being a black sheep is one that was self imposed. It has been comforting to fit in, but still maintain myself.
The major things that I have learned in the past year:
-That I seek validation from others to feel lovable and that I'm messing myself up by doing that.
-That I don't have to keep doing things I have always done
-That circumstances may change, but I still carry stuff from place to place.
-That I don't have to have an opinion on things that don't concern me
-To keep my mouth shut
While all of these things are valuable, the biggest changes I have seen in myself are the last two. It is very freeing to recognize that I don't have anything to do with a situation, so I don't have to comment on it. I don't have to share my thoughts on the things, because everyone has their opinions and by telling someone, I am not going to change their thoughts. Being in a former relationship full of opinions and rebellions, it has been a breath of fresh air to be neutral.
This whole year has been a big new breath of air. Clearing out the old stale air, taking in a lung full of new cleaner air. My lungs have felt restricted and retarded for some time and I am finally feeling them expand and be able to take in more than ever before.
The major things that I have learned in the past year:
-That I seek validation from others to feel lovable and that I'm messing myself up by doing that.
-That I don't have to keep doing things I have always done
-That circumstances may change, but I still carry stuff from place to place.
-That I don't have to have an opinion on things that don't concern me
-To keep my mouth shut
While all of these things are valuable, the biggest changes I have seen in myself are the last two. It is very freeing to recognize that I don't have anything to do with a situation, so I don't have to comment on it. I don't have to share my thoughts on the things, because everyone has their opinions and by telling someone, I am not going to change their thoughts. Being in a former relationship full of opinions and rebellions, it has been a breath of fresh air to be neutral.
This whole year has been a big new breath of air. Clearing out the old stale air, taking in a lung full of new cleaner air. My lungs have felt restricted and retarded for some time and I am finally feeling them expand and be able to take in more than ever before.
The past few weeks have been a lot happier and more hopeful than the previous ones. I can see changes happening in me that are good and healthy and I am grateful for that. I am being a lot less emotionally impatient, but that impatience till very much exists. I recognize that I am exactly where I ought to be, even though it is not where I expected to be or want to be. I am enjoying being alone and it is not as scary or lonely as i though it would be. The theory of quantum entanglement (very) basically says that when two items have come into contact, that after separating, they are no longer the same as before they met. This makes me think of love and how relationships change us. It is interesting to see what I have gained in my pasts relationships and then what I have kept as my own after those relationships ended. It is strange to disassociate the things I've kept from the person that introduced me to them, but it it nice to take ownership of things as things that I enjoy, not just things that I did because my partner did them. I have recently felt a hunger for knowledge like I don't recall ever feeling before. It is like my mind has opened up and wants to become more intelligent. I am enjoying that very much. Life is really good right now, even though my heart still feels like it has a blanket on it. I still feel sad, which makes me feel weak. I know that is not true and I would argue with anyone about why that is wrong, but I still have trouble getting myself to fully believe it. Every week, things get a little bit more joyful. It is comforting to think of how I felt a month ago and to see how much better things are now. It makes me feel really hopeful for the next month.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
These have all appeared in strange places for me today. It seems that they were placed there just for me, because I need to hear them.
May I not so much seek to be loved, but to love...
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy it can contain. -Kahlil Gibran
Remember when you go into the world, to keep your eyes and ears wide open. And be kind. Love one another. Take care of each other.Tell the truth. Do your best. Listen to the big people and the little people. Explore new paths and have fun. Know that you are loved like crazy. Give thanks for all of your blessings. Above all else, love and you will do wonderful things in the world. -Rebecca Puig
May I not so much seek to be loved, but to love...
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy it can contain. -Kahlil Gibran
Remember when you go into the world, to keep your eyes and ears wide open. And be kind. Love one another. Take care of each other.Tell the truth. Do your best. Listen to the big people and the little people. Explore new paths and have fun. Know that you are loved like crazy. Give thanks for all of your blessings. Above all else, love and you will do wonderful things in the world. -Rebecca Puig
wah wah wah
My ex once told me I was spoiled Disney princess. I was horrified at the time, but I am realizing how true it is. I am very impatient. I want what I want, and I want it now. I am especially lazy when it comes to emotions. I don't want to be bothered by negative emotions. I only want the good ones. I feel like i am entitled to only good stuff. When I do have to feel negative emotions, I want them to be placed in a box and on a timeline so I know when things will feel better. I want to manipulate and manage sadness and anger so it won't affect me anymore. If I can put it in a box, I can put it away in a closet and not open it. Even though when I've done that in the past, the box falls off that closet shelf at really inopportune times and smacks me in the face. That's not what I need. I am asking for patience and peace with all of this and I am fairly certain it will come. Hopefully sooner than later, cause I'm feeling a little impatient.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
on the other hand...
I am really grateful for the people that love me and make my life such a happy place. I am surrounded by people who I care deeply for and that enhance my life in so many ways. My life is wide open, with so many possibilities. The world is my oyster. Anything can happen and whatever does, it will be the right thing. (Hopefully, I can meet these new things with more patience than I am displaying right now.) What I want is not going to happen, but what I need will. Even if it is no fun. I'm grateful for the sweet little boy that I have been trusted to take care of and raise as a loving person. I'm grateful to my friends for instigating so much fun and laughter. I am grateful for the people (both friends and strangers) that are opening up their homes to me today. I am grateful for my home, that it is all mine, that I know where everything is and that I can get rid of anything I want without having to get approval from someone else. I am grateful for my 28th circle around the sun, as it has been the best one yet. I am looking forward to starting my 29th (confusing, since I am turning 28). I am looking forward to there being a little bit more light each day, starting on my birthday. I am thankful for a new year and the new opportunities it will provide. I am grateful for new beginnings and wrapping up old loose ends.
meh.
I haven't been looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. The thought of it has just made me really sad. Last year was my first Thanksgiving after Denali's dad and I split. After we split, my parents told me that they had already bought plane tickets to San Diego to spend time with my sister. I didn't have Denali, so I spent the majority of Thanksgiving alone. It was quite depressing. I have always enjoyed Thanksgiving and looked forward to it. But last year, it filled me with a sense of dread of being alone. When I'm feeling blue, being in a crowd is super hard for me. Especially going to March Madness practice, something I usually love, becomes really miserable. It is hard to be around people having fun and not be able to perk yourself up like everyone else. This year, I had Denali until noon. My extended family had their big meal on Saturday, so I had planned on just hanging out with my mom and dad. They were invited to Thanksgiving with friends of theirs from church and asked me if I would come along so we could be together. I agreed, even though I didn't want to. I got there and immediately wanted to cry. I'm in this huge mansion filled with happy people who I do not know. This loser with no one to spend Thanksgiving with except for a group of complete strangers. I had to go to the bathroom several times to get myself together. Not only am I the complete stranger, but fighting back tears as well. No one knew, but still pretty embarrassing. Everyone was very welcoming and kind and the food was really tasty. I felt better until it was time to leave. My dad walked me out and asked how I was doing. I can't keep myself together in front of my parents. Even if I've had a great day, which I've had a lot more of lately, they ask me how I am and I start crying. I'm so sick of this. I'm ready to not be sad or angry any more. I want a time line to look forward to. Some note that arrives in the mail that says, "On this day, you will no longer be pissed at someone's thoughtless actions or be sad." I feel so stupid for feeling this way. I hate it. I'm a happy person and this is really throwing a cramp in my style.
This post is completely pointless. More of a rant, verbal diarrhea. I do not like Thanksgiving. I do not like being sad. I don't like being pissed. I'm looking forward to all of this being over.
This post is completely pointless. More of a rant, verbal diarrhea. I do not like Thanksgiving. I do not like being sad. I don't like being pissed. I'm looking forward to all of this being over.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
I'm wearing sunglasses at night
My life is nearly always exceptionally great. I am possibly the most lucky/blessed person that has ever lived. Life always seems to work out for me. I've had some dark times, but other than those times, life is amazing. I am often awestruck at the multitude of unique opportunities and interactions that come my way. I've been accused of being obnoxiously optimistic, which is possibly true, since things always seem to work out so well in my life. Right now, I still have plenty of great things going on, but I am not feeling optimistic at all. My life is ruled by fear right now. This is such a dramatic shift from my usual view and I'm somewhat stunned from being knocked off my optimism pedestal. I'm scrambling to get things straightened out and placed in their neat little boxes so I can process them. But I can't seem to find the boxes to put these disappointments in and when I try to grab them to pick up, they blow up in my face.
My brain is a petri dish for fearful thoughts right now and I'm having a hard time getting them under control. The fears are all irrational. So irrational, that I don't want to say them out loud, because I don't want admit the craziness that my mind perpetuates. I'm going to type them out so that I can see them in front of me and I can see how absurd they are. If my brain were a restaurant, these fears would be the daily specials:
I'm scared I am becoming depressed again and that I am going to have to deal with it all by myself. I am surrounded by people that love me and care a lot about me. If I do start feeling this way again, I have knowledge of signs to know when to get help and I have health insurance that will cover it.
I'm afraid I am not going to do well in school and people will not think I am intelligent if I don't get a certain grade. I am doing fine in school, I'm just not able to devote all of the time that I would like to it. No one is judging my intelligence solely on a letter grade.
I'm afraid of being alone and unwanted. I am surrounded by friends that come pick me up and make me go out, even when I feel low and want to lay in bed. Being single is scary because it is new and unfamiliar, but new and unfamiliar things blossom into bigger and better things.
I'm afraid I am going to get stuck on one ideal of what I want to happen. If those ideals don't happen, I'll be disappointed. If it does happen, I will have made it out to be such a great thing in my mind that the actual things will pale in comparison with my lofty ideals, and I will be disappointed. Either way, if I hang onto these ideals, I'll end up disappointed. I need to let them go and remember that life is not black or white. What I want vs. what I don't want are very rarely the only options.
I'm scared that Denali will be treated unfairly. I have an awesome kid that is not always going to be treated as well as I would like for him to be treated. That is part of life and I can't control it. I can only teach him to stand up for himself and to be loving and kind.
I'm scared of losing people I care a lot about. This one is a big one. I'm scared that a very close friendship will not be able to withstand a new topography and that I will lose that person in more ways than I've already lost them.
I'm afraid that I am unloveable because I've been rejected. This, is the biggest and most damning. My spiritual mentor once told me that there are three kinds of lies. The first are outright untruths. The second are lies of omission. The third are the lies that we tell ourselves. The last one is the most ruthless, most damaging and most common. I know that I am surrounded by people that care about me and love me. But in the back of my mind, there is always the thought that no one will love me. I've been able to work on silencing/reducing that thought, but being rejected has made me take two steps back.
Feeding all of these fears is not sustainable. Feeling great all the time is not a balanced life. For as amazing as my life is, if it weren't for the down times, it would be unchecked and unbridled. I need these times to reign things in and recognize how good I have things. My life is nearly always exceptionally great, I'm just in between greatnesses right now.
My brain is a petri dish for fearful thoughts right now and I'm having a hard time getting them under control. The fears are all irrational. So irrational, that I don't want to say them out loud, because I don't want admit the craziness that my mind perpetuates. I'm going to type them out so that I can see them in front of me and I can see how absurd they are. If my brain were a restaurant, these fears would be the daily specials:
I'm scared I am becoming depressed again and that I am going to have to deal with it all by myself. I am surrounded by people that love me and care a lot about me. If I do start feeling this way again, I have knowledge of signs to know when to get help and I have health insurance that will cover it.
I'm afraid I am not going to do well in school and people will not think I am intelligent if I don't get a certain grade. I am doing fine in school, I'm just not able to devote all of the time that I would like to it. No one is judging my intelligence solely on a letter grade.
I'm afraid of being alone and unwanted. I am surrounded by friends that come pick me up and make me go out, even when I feel low and want to lay in bed. Being single is scary because it is new and unfamiliar, but new and unfamiliar things blossom into bigger and better things.
I'm afraid I am going to get stuck on one ideal of what I want to happen. If those ideals don't happen, I'll be disappointed. If it does happen, I will have made it out to be such a great thing in my mind that the actual things will pale in comparison with my lofty ideals, and I will be disappointed. Either way, if I hang onto these ideals, I'll end up disappointed. I need to let them go and remember that life is not black or white. What I want vs. what I don't want are very rarely the only options.
I'm scared that Denali will be treated unfairly. I have an awesome kid that is not always going to be treated as well as I would like for him to be treated. That is part of life and I can't control it. I can only teach him to stand up for himself and to be loving and kind.
I'm scared of losing people I care a lot about. This one is a big one. I'm scared that a very close friendship will not be able to withstand a new topography and that I will lose that person in more ways than I've already lost them.
I'm afraid that I am unloveable because I've been rejected. This, is the biggest and most damning. My spiritual mentor once told me that there are three kinds of lies. The first are outright untruths. The second are lies of omission. The third are the lies that we tell ourselves. The last one is the most ruthless, most damaging and most common. I know that I am surrounded by people that care about me and love me. But in the back of my mind, there is always the thought that no one will love me. I've been able to work on silencing/reducing that thought, but being rejected has made me take two steps back.
Feeding all of these fears is not sustainable. Feeling great all the time is not a balanced life. For as amazing as my life is, if it weren't for the down times, it would be unchecked and unbridled. I need these times to reign things in and recognize how good I have things. My life is nearly always exceptionally great, I'm just in between greatnesses right now.
Monday, October 31, 2011
I'm Cyclical
It has been seven months since I've written. This was supposed to be a blog about sharing all the beautiful things in my life. My life has been so overflowing with beauty that I've forgotten to take time out to write about them. That's a really good problem to have. I feel like there are all kinds of problems in my life right now that are bogging me down. They are all first world problems. The fact that I even have these minor nuisances is a testament to the really beautiful and great things going on in my life.
*I've gained weight while I was on vacation. I got to go on a vacation, for free, and I have plenty to eat. Most importantly, my son has plenty to eat and clean water to drink.
* I have a tons of homework and writing to do and I feel like I am running out of time to get everything finished. I am financially able to go to school. I am cognitively able to store and recall information. I live in a place where I have access to a good education that will further me, intellectually and professionally.
*Work has been crazy, with a student that has made everything crazy. I have a job that I enjoy. I am able to support our little family all by myself. I have really great coworkers that I enjoy working with.
* I am heartbroken. I had the opportunity to get to be best friends with a really great person. I had nine months full of laughing, good conversations, snuggling and great company. I was able to learn a lot of new things. I was introduced to new friends and good music.
Gosh, poor little me. I have such a rough life.
A little over a year ago, I made a really big, life changing decision. I am grateful to be able to say that I have never looked back or regretted my decision. My life has blossomed in my life as a grownup. This past year has been a time of watching myself evolve, as well as a smack in the face of those patterns and habits that I just can't seem to break. It has been the best year of my life. This time last year, I was fearful of the winter months. I was afraid of the amalgamation of the changes in my life, the forthcoming cold, dark months and the unknown were going to choke me. I wanted a time machine just to propel me into the spring months. In a previous post, however, I talked about how many great things had happened in those months that I had wanted to skip. I am finding myself again fearful of what the next season holds for me. I have full faith that the coming months hold great things in store for me; ones that I don't expect, ones that will fall short of what I think is best for me and ones that far surpass my expectations. Next weekend is the start of Daylight Savings time. Instead of focusing on the increased amount of darkness and the cold weather, I am going to look forward to snowflakes falling on my eyelashes, water dripping off melting icicles, the first day of winter, where every day, there is a little bit more light than there was the day before.
*I've gained weight while I was on vacation. I got to go on a vacation, for free, and I have plenty to eat. Most importantly, my son has plenty to eat and clean water to drink.
* I have a tons of homework and writing to do and I feel like I am running out of time to get everything finished. I am financially able to go to school. I am cognitively able to store and recall information. I live in a place where I have access to a good education that will further me, intellectually and professionally.
*Work has been crazy, with a student that has made everything crazy. I have a job that I enjoy. I am able to support our little family all by myself. I have really great coworkers that I enjoy working with.
* I am heartbroken. I had the opportunity to get to be best friends with a really great person. I had nine months full of laughing, good conversations, snuggling and great company. I was able to learn a lot of new things. I was introduced to new friends and good music.
Gosh, poor little me. I have such a rough life.
A little over a year ago, I made a really big, life changing decision. I am grateful to be able to say that I have never looked back or regretted my decision. My life has blossomed in my life as a grownup. This past year has been a time of watching myself evolve, as well as a smack in the face of those patterns and habits that I just can't seem to break. It has been the best year of my life. This time last year, I was fearful of the winter months. I was afraid of the amalgamation of the changes in my life, the forthcoming cold, dark months and the unknown were going to choke me. I wanted a time machine just to propel me into the spring months. In a previous post, however, I talked about how many great things had happened in those months that I had wanted to skip. I am finding myself again fearful of what the next season holds for me. I have full faith that the coming months hold great things in store for me; ones that I don't expect, ones that will fall short of what I think is best for me and ones that far surpass my expectations. Next weekend is the start of Daylight Savings time. Instead of focusing on the increased amount of darkness and the cold weather, I am going to look forward to snowflakes falling on my eyelashes, water dripping off melting icicles, the first day of winter, where every day, there is a little bit more light than there was the day before.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
For Crazy Owl
Charles Emerson Hall 1927-2011This is Crazy Owl. I'm struggling for words to describe him or how to accurately convey my experiences with him. I met him when I was 18 and working at the Co-op. He was a 75 year-old gay witch doctor with a doctorate in statistics. He was shorter and bald on top, but had long gray, partially dreaded hair and beard. He typically wore a green baja pullover and smelled of an odd amalgamation of weed, herbs and old man. His hands shook violently, ceaselessly. He had trouble writing; it took him ages to write me a check. I would have his assortment of bulk containers of honey, herbs, dried mushrooms, and grains totaled and bagged long before he even opened his checkbook. Once he started writing, you could barely make out anything he scribbled. I would wait for him to leave before getting his check out of the drawer and writing the amount written legibly.
When I was 19, I moved into The Fairy Mansion, an eight bedroom victorian mansion on Third Street. When I moved in, my friends that were already living there were intentionally "living in community." Living in community sounds less 1967 than saying living in a commune, but that's basically what we did. We shared this house, each of us having our own bedroom while the remainder of the house was community space. We cooked and ate meals together, each had cleaning and maintenance responsibilities. we had a weekly concensus-based meeting to address concerns and problems. When someone moved out and another person wanted to move in, we gathered for our house meeting and had to all agree about the potential house member. When it was my turn to be discussed, Crazy Owl, who was occupying the room that was next to the vacant room, cast the sole vote denying my chance to live there. Crazy Owl did not try to hide his desire to have some nubile young hippie living on the other side of his wall. He just didn't want that fresh young thing to be a woman. I tried again the next month and was accepted by all. I think Crazy Owl realized that since no young gay men had expressed interest, he should accept my rent money instead.
So, for about a year, I lived with this crazy man. He once tried to pay for weed with a check. He smoked a lot of pot, and his hands would shake so hard that the weed would fall out of the bowl. He would leave out swinger magazines, and he never hid the fact that, though he was 76, he was still feisty and looking for a good time. If there was ever an ill, Crazy Owl offered you a container of honey with various brown dried herbs steeping in it. He was long winded and usually unintentionally funny. Crazy Owl moved out of The Fairy Mansion in 2004 to live in a community of mostly gay men in Tennessee. He was a character, the kind that even the most talented author couldn't conjure. Even though I had not seen him in seven years, when i read of his passing, it made me stop and think of the craziness that accompanied this old owl. I'm glad he was in my life. Rest in Peace, Crazy Owl.
*It is 5:12am. i'm ready to go back to sleep. so I'm not editing this. there are errors and i didn't capitolize everything i should have. whatevs. i'll come back and edit later.*
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
oops, I did it again
I have completely forgotten about my blog! Yikes! I have a good excuse. Life has been going so swimmingly well, that I haven’t even thought to sit and write. This is an interesting thing, since I started this blog to focus on the beauty in my life. Now my life has constantly been full of beauty, yet I haven’t written anything at all. I am easily the happiest I have ever been. Life is exceptionally great and I am full of gratitude for the positive turns my life has taken in the past six months. It is nice to make major life decisions and be able to honestly say that I have not looked back. Not once. I was really afraid that I would go into the winter, into the darkest months of the year, sad and depressed over the changes I made. At one point I said I wanted a time machine to fast forward my life through the winter, into spring. Even if time travel were a possibility, I am so glad that I did not do that. Had I traveled forward, I would have missed so many great experiences and opportunities. I would have missed out on spiritual growth that has resulted in a peace and joy that can only come from a conscious connection. I would have missed out on the blossoming of treasured friendship. I would have missed out on reconnecting with an old coworker, a connection that has grown into a healthy and life enriching relationship. I would have missed out on traveling to the HONK! Festival with March Madness Marching Band. I would have missed out on a time of great experiential growth. Thank goodness for the inability to time travel. I do wish teleportation was a possibility, but I digress.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
olfactory revelation
I just realized that I never followed up after receiving my little vials of aromatic magic. I ordered six vials, or imps as BPAL calls them, but they sent two extra samples. The samples were offensive, too masculine and overpowering. Of the imps that I selected, the two that I thought sounded the best from their sensual descriptions turned out to be the ones I liked the least. When I say liked the least, I mean I am tempted to throw them away because I dislike them so much. I do not recommend Hymn or Pannychis. After catching a whiff of them, it occurred to me that I do not care for jasmine or frankincense. The musky and flowery smells do not pair well with my senses. The four other imps were simply delightful and each one evoked a very distinct emotion and association.
BORDELLO: A decadent, deep perfume, lusty and luxuriant. The scent evokes images of velvet-lined Old West cathouses, tightly laced corsets, rustling petticoats and coquettish snarls of pleasure. Bawdy plum with amaretto, burgundy wine and black currant.
Bordello lives up to its description. It has a satisfying depth, while remaining sweet and libidinous. It is warm and cuts the chill of winter air. This one mixes delightfully with my body chemistry. It feels a little bit naughty, like I know a secret that no one else can know. Well, maybe one other person.
EVE: The spirit of temptation, the essence of lost innocence. Apple blossom, rose, ylang ylang and golden honey.
Eve is another sweet smell. It is summery and light and feminine. I think it is too airy and ethereal for winter. If my innocence was not already exhausted, it wouldn’t stand a chance while wearing this. I look forward to donning it once the temperatures start to rise. My only concern is that bees may follow me, detecting Eve’s nectarous goodness.
VICE: More Sin & Salvation. Voluptuous and indulgent! A deep chocolate scent, with black cherry and orange blossom.
Vice smells like Cherry Coke, but in all the right ways. I wore it on my birthday and it made me feel like a very alluring artisan cupcake. A male friend hugged me and told me I smelled like Easter candy. He couldn’t place which candy I smelled of, but he spent the remainder of the night trying to identify the smell. Any smell that stays on the mind of a platonic friend must be working some kind of magic.
ENVY: Part of the Sin and Salvation inspired group. Green herbs slithering through mint, lime and lavender.
Envy is earthy and sensual. It caught me off guard. It evokes the smell that a lady would have after cutting the grass on a humid summer evening. The sweet smell of sweat from honest hard work, clippings of greenery covering your ankles and the remainder of perfume lingering from morning. It smells of Michler’s greenhouses. Seasonally, it fits from the first sight of crocuses all the way through the first time you catch a chill after the sun goes down, the first time you get to wear your favorite hoodie and realize that things are about to change.
With the newfound knowledge of what I like and don’t care for, I will be ordering more from BPAL. I am certain that an ounce of Bordello will soon be in the mail to my address. I highly recommend just searching their descriptions. Alone the descriptions are enough to tantalize and excite.
BORDELLO: A decadent, deep perfume, lusty and luxuriant. The scent evokes images of velvet-lined Old West cathouses, tightly laced corsets, rustling petticoats and coquettish snarls of pleasure. Bawdy plum with amaretto, burgundy wine and black currant.
Bordello lives up to its description. It has a satisfying depth, while remaining sweet and libidinous. It is warm and cuts the chill of winter air. This one mixes delightfully with my body chemistry. It feels a little bit naughty, like I know a secret that no one else can know. Well, maybe one other person.
EVE: The spirit of temptation, the essence of lost innocence. Apple blossom, rose, ylang ylang and golden honey.
Eve is another sweet smell. It is summery and light and feminine. I think it is too airy and ethereal for winter. If my innocence was not already exhausted, it wouldn’t stand a chance while wearing this. I look forward to donning it once the temperatures start to rise. My only concern is that bees may follow me, detecting Eve’s nectarous goodness.
VICE: More Sin & Salvation. Voluptuous and indulgent! A deep chocolate scent, with black cherry and orange blossom.
Vice smells like Cherry Coke, but in all the right ways. I wore it on my birthday and it made me feel like a very alluring artisan cupcake. A male friend hugged me and told me I smelled like Easter candy. He couldn’t place which candy I smelled of, but he spent the remainder of the night trying to identify the smell. Any smell that stays on the mind of a platonic friend must be working some kind of magic.
ENVY: Part of the Sin and Salvation inspired group. Green herbs slithering through mint, lime and lavender.
Envy is earthy and sensual. It caught me off guard. It evokes the smell that a lady would have after cutting the grass on a humid summer evening. The sweet smell of sweat from honest hard work, clippings of greenery covering your ankles and the remainder of perfume lingering from morning. It smells of Michler’s greenhouses. Seasonally, it fits from the first sight of crocuses all the way through the first time you catch a chill after the sun goes down, the first time you get to wear your favorite hoodie and realize that things are about to change.
With the newfound knowledge of what I like and don’t care for, I will be ordering more from BPAL. I am certain that an ounce of Bordello will soon be in the mail to my address. I highly recommend just searching their descriptions. Alone the descriptions are enough to tantalize and excite.
I didn’t have the internet at my house for the past five weeks, thus no writing. I’ve missed it. Life has been filled with only the best. I received a turntable for Xmas. Not only was this an awesome thing to have, it was very symbolic for my current stage of life. In the past seven years, I there have been at least two record players in a prominent location in my home. Accompanying those record players were a collection of what ended up around 6,000 records. Music was always playing. Upon waking, during meals, while falling asleep, it was a constant. I have always felt very passionate about music. During these years, I was rarely the one that selected the music. Don’t get me wrong, I heard a lot of really good music and was exposed to things I would have never heard of otherwise. I am grateful for that music. However, stepping back from that situation, I’m realizing that my love for music went by the wayside. When I was alone at home, it was my rare opportunity to enjoy silence. Now that I am on my own, I am rediscovering the profound effect that music has on my life, how much I have missed it in my life. It’s as though music was hijacked for years. Living alone, with my own record player and my own records that I bought with my own money, I have been so moved by the depth and beauty that can be amplified then projected through speakers as a result of a needle falling into the grooves on a piece of vinyl. Grateful that I have the ability to hear and process that sound, then translate it into impulses that release chemicals that incite euphoria. The process of listening to a record, the loving act of carefully removing it from its cover, attentively placing the needle into the indentations and closing the cover gently as to not cause the needle to jump is a process. Dare I say it is a ritual? Having the pleasure of sitting and listening for about 25 minutes, then having to get up and do it all over again. Most of the records I have been enjoying lately are new releases. They lack the dust and age that gives them the snapcracklepops that records are known and loved for. Regardless, the sound is so much richer. The depth cannot even be compared to other forms of media. Even with speakers of the highest quality, other mediums sound flat and emotionless compared to vinyl. The last time I recall sitting and listening to a record, really listening, not just hearing it, was in middle school. After Denali goes to bed, a record goes on the platter and I sit in amazement at this newly rediscovered form of beauty in my life.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Are you there, Mr. Brezney? It's me, Lauren
I do love him so. He is an astrologer/writer. The good kind of astrologer; possibly the only one, ever. He writes Free Will Astrology. It is lyrical and poetic while being insightful yet leaving out the new age hippie dip that often accompanies any mention of the zodiac. My horoscope for this week:
You've arrived at a delicate yet boisterous turning point when one-of-a-kind opportunities are budding. I'm going to give you seven phrases that I think capture the essence of this pregnant moment:
1. wise innocence;
2. primal elegance;
3. raw holiness;
4. electrifying poise;
5. curative teasing;
6. rigorous play;
7 volcanic tenderness.
To maximize your ability to capitalize on the transformations that are available, I suggest you seek out and cultivate these seemingly paradoxical states of being.
Be still, my beating heart!
You've arrived at a delicate yet boisterous turning point when one-of-a-kind opportunities are budding. I'm going to give you seven phrases that I think capture the essence of this pregnant moment:
1. wise innocence;
2. primal elegance;
3. raw holiness;
4. electrifying poise;
5. curative teasing;
6. rigorous play;
7 volcanic tenderness.
To maximize your ability to capitalize on the transformations that are available, I suggest you seek out and cultivate these seemingly paradoxical states of being.
Be still, my beating heart!
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