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Good Advice. In one ear.... Or an Oldie but Goodie...Or The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

Originally published May 19,2005

*Sigh* Good advice, if only I could heed it even once in a while.

If you have not read Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions, you simply must.

Lamott on how to approach a new relationship:

Think of it as having come upon a beautiful canoe on the shore. Now, no matter how much you want to get in it and paddle way out into the water, maybe all the way across the Pacific, no matter how long you've had to wait to do so, you simply don't do it. You'd paddle around the shore for a while, maybe for weeks, take little excursions, test it out.

Maybe it would seem ok the first few times, but then it might turn out to be full of holes and cracks and start to sink, and you would need to bail. It would have turned out that you had gotten the last good hours out of that beautiful shitty little boat. It was a good thing you hadn't gone out very far.

Yep, I'm pretty sure I'm up a creek without a damn paddle in sight.

That shore thingy? I left it behind several weeks ago when I packed my lunch and tucked my heart in between the snack pack pudding and the baggie of baby carrots. The trip has been gorgeous, scary, exhilarating, enlightening, and, well, ...lovely. Just really, really lovely.

This shared journey will soon find us on the other side, thirsty, wiser, and armed with the confidence of having made it thus far, even more adventurous.

We are almost there!

Back in the Saddle

As someone who's fallen of the horse one too many times, can I just take this opportunity to say it is so not just like riding a bike.  There is nothing easy about trading in the comfort that comes with knowing what you have, whether it be good or bad, for the fear and uncertanity that awaits just around the bend.  I find myself almost yearnig for naievete, to not be aquainted with the pain that accompanies a broken heart, the deficiency of trust in your intuition as a result of a crushing betrayal,  and the damn melancholy of lonliness.  

Never let it be said that I'm a coward.  Keep dusting myself off, putting my best foot forward, smiling pretty, making eye contact, listening, studying, scheming, contemplating, thanking my lucky stars, saying please and thank you, flirting, making my bed and lying in it, and trying, oh, I'm trying, to be patient.

Now if you will excuse me, I need to take this bike (sans training wheels) out for a spin.  Practice makes perfect, right?

Poetry in Motion

Did you know that April is national poetry month?  In celebration, I've put together a compiliation of inspiration for poems I have yet to write:

the moment I first heard my baby's cry, the first step, the first "ma-ma", the first open mouthed baby kisses, rocking baby to sleep while the rest of the world slept, first giggle

a heated argument followed by a lover showing up on my doorstep, soaked to the bone after walking across town in the rain to be with me

all the nights I was drunk with love and forgot what it felt to be tired, to need sleep

a sleepless night followed by a long drive on a windy back road, sitting on the hood of the car,wrapped up in a blanket and him, watching the sunrise

a mountaintop proposal, complete with a gorgeous view and a sparkly ring that took my breath away

middle of the night kitchen raids, leaning my back against his chest, having him give me tiny sips of orange juice from a goblet and feeding me strawberries

falling asleep to the rain

a 3AM walk in the snow, hand in hand, knowing that moment that I was hopelessly in love--everything eerily silent, I was sure he'd hear my heart beating

the sound of his key in the lock, footsteps on the stairs, the moment he walked into the room

early morning stroll along the foggy, deserted beach, just me, looking for beach glass, shells, treasures washed up on the shore

the first kiss, the first kiss, the first kiss 

the way our bodies just *fit*

whispers and promises

the first "i love you"

the last "goodbye" 

all the love letters- words, words, gorgeous words

Do you have a poem yet to write?  What inspires you?  Do you have a favorite poet or poem? You can discover new poets here.   I'm planning to post a few of my favorites, starting with two from my most belvoed poet, E.E. Cummings:

i like my body when it is with your/body.  It is so quite new a thing../Muscles better and nerves more./i like your body.  i like what it does,/i like its hows.  I like to feel the spine/of your body and its bones, and the trembling/-firm-smooth ness and which i will/again and again and again/kiss,   i like kissing this and that of you,/i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz/of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes/over parting flesh...And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

the first of all my dreams was of/a lover and his only love,/strolling slowly (mind in mind)/through some green mysterious land

until my second dream begins-/the sky is wild with leaves;which dance/and dancing swoop(and swooping whirl/over a frightened boy and girl)

but that mere fury soon became/silence:in hunger always whom/two tiny selves sleep(doll by doll)/motionless under magical

foreverfully falling snow./And then this dreamer wept:and so/she quickly dreamed a dream of spring/-how you and i are blossoming

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Find explanations in charity"

I'm halfway through Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project and though it has yet to be an extraordinary source of revelation, I am enjoying reading about the author's experience and insight gained through her research while writing the book.    

As always, I find myself drawn to resonating quotations such as the one by Flannery O'Conner  in chapter  6 entitled "Friendship".  One way Rubin suggest nurturing friendships is to be generous and in doing so "cut people slack".  I am saddened to have recently lost a very important, relatively long-term friendship due to what I perceived as my friend's complete inability to do just that.  Rubin's explains, "The "fundamental attribution error" is a psychological phenomenon in which we tend to view other people's actions as reflections of their characters and to overlook the power of situation to influence their actions, whereas with ourselves, we recognize the pressures of circumstance.  When other people's cell phones ring during a movie, it's because they're inconsiderate boors; if my cell phone rings during a movie, it's because I need to be able to take a call from the babysitter."

Rubin goes on to share the before-mentioned quote from Flannery O'Connor, "From 15 to 18 is an age at which one is very sensitive to the sins of others, as I know from recollections of myself.  At that age you don't look for what is hidden.  It is a sign of maturity not to be scandalized and try to find explanations in charity."  

I feel as though I am extremely generous when it comes to "cutting others slack", not just with my friends and family, but with strangers as well.   In fact, I believe you can tell a lot about a person in the way they treat others when they don't have to be nice- when they think no one is looking.  The cashier, the bank teller, the server, the delivery person, the parking attendant...Kindness begets kindness.  I always thought this was just common sense, but for some, as is in the case of my friend, it truly requires a great deal of effort.  It has been my experience that  when we assume the best of ourselves and others we are more often than not rewarded with such.  Whereas, when we decide that people are rude, inconsiderate, and selfish, we find ourselves lonely and defensive.  

Just food for thought, let the cultivation of kindness and generosity play a leading role in your own happiness project and I'm confident whatever the investment you make will come back to you tenfold. 

You Can't Always Get What You Want

But if you try sometimes, YOU CAN!  

Having the courage to make some very big changes in my life, as of late, came with some promises made to myself.  One such promise was that though I need to get back out there and bring home the bacon for myself and the kidlets, I would be less willing to compromise by getting a "job".  Instead,  I wanted to find work that I could feel good about doing, that I would actually enjoy, and that earning a paycheck for doing so would just be the icing on the cake.  Tall order, right?  

I guess it seems that way, unless you consider where I was coming from.  I have spent years working as a bean counter, which in the beginning was a love-hate relationship made up of my love for organization vs my hate for all things math related.  When it came time to get serious about looking for new employment opportunities, I found myself bombarded with bookkkeeping positions of which I just couldn't bring myself to apply.  I decided to make a compromise, a deal with the universe.  If I don't find a job by March 1st, I'll do the responsible/rational thing, and apply for these positions.  In the meantime, universe, please consider my query, to make good on that promise to myself.

Thank you, universe!!  I was offered not one, but two such opportunities this week!  A co-worker at one of the above mentioned soul-robbing jobs has since started her own business here and has offered me a position.  Can you say dream job?? Umm, hello, we all know how much lu loves her some books.  I am so freakin excited!!  Oh, but wait.  A second offer came my way in the most awesome job title I have ever heard:  Quality Assurance "making things perfectly pretty in every way" and Marketing Associate from someone I truly respect and admire not only for her talents, but extraordinary kindness as well.  It gets better.  I was able to accept both!!  I am truly over the moon, ecstatic, euphoric, blissed-out, GRATEFUL.  Thank you, Rebekah, Natalie, and you too, universe.

Now, they say good things come in three's, right???  Did I mention that I'm super stoked?

One, Two, Three Strikes

Alright, not to give away the punch line or anything, but....  

Here goes, half a decade in a nutshell.  Met a boy thirteen years my junior, dated six months, moved in together, gave it another three months, got married, had some highs and lows, earned my B.A. in English, bought a house, celebrated the big 4-0,  sold a house, applied and got accepted into a MFA program for creative writing, but declined the invite,  got a grown-up job as a bean counter that bled every drop of creativity out of me,  bought another house, went to Disney World, got pregnant, had a beautiful baby boy we call Beans, got separated, quit my bean counting job,  reconciled, gave it another go for eight months, and, finally, brings us to today.  

About five years later, I find myself a soon to be three times divorced single mama with three kidlets (with three different daddies), and an unemployed college graduate with a mortgage and about thrity grand in debt spilling over on my plate.   Good. Times.

 Life is good.  Really, it is.  My daughters continue to grow into amazing, intelligent, creative, funny, young women and my little guy is just too damn cute.  It's comforting to see I must be doing something right, I just can't get this relationship thing right.  

My eldest, who came out to me two years ago at the age of sixteen, suggests I just need to "find a nice lady".  She's married (courtesy of STL Pridfest) to her high school sweetheart and they are currently living with me and practicing in order to take their killer girl band, The Dead End Dreams, out on the road.  For my undying support and devotion to the band, I'm promised a fabulous beach house once they make it big.

 My younger daughter has aspirations to be a dancer, an actress, a vet, a writer, an artist, marine biologist,  contortionist, and a singer.  Know what?  She'll probably be able to pull it off.  At the age of 10, she's smart as a whip and is SASSY. 

Beans.  What can  I say about Baby Beans?  Well, for starters at 16 months-old, he still only sleeps a consecutive two hours at any given time.  More important things to do, I suppose.  Meanwhile, mom isn't handling it so well. There's a reason why they use sleep deprivation as a form of torture.  I. am. exhausted.  And I'm pretty sure I've aged at least ten years in the past two.  I was so busy asking the universe to bless me with a healthy baby (as everything I read warned me not to have a baby at my age) I forgot to request that he might sleep just a tiny bit as well.  He's got killer baby blues and a contagious giggle that he uses to melt the hearts of every person he meets.

Meanwhile, well-meaning friends and family congratulate me on being such a strong person, that this is just the close of one chapter and the baby steps toward a grand new adventure.  One close friend assures me that it's just that my princes all turn into frogs, but really?  After this many failed attempts at happily ever after, I have to take a good, hard, long, painful look in the mirror.  I'm happy to report that I still like the person staring back at me and am working hard to forgive myself for being so wrong.   

When the boy and I mutually decided to call it quits, we described our news to friends and family as sad news rather than bad news.  There's really no bad guy in this scenario, just two people who made really, really bad choices.  Fresh on the heels of  horribly tumultuous relationships, we both wanted desperatley to believe that we were one another's "one".  So much so, that we pretended a 13 year age difference and nothing in common would come out in the wash.  We never bothered to ask ourselves the really tough questions about one another.  For all my talk of independence, the truth, as I've come to realize, is that I really, really wanted, needed, someone to take care of me.  Though the boy possessed all the chivalry I craved, he was still, after all, just a boy and I pretended not to notice that one too many of the no-no's were applicable.  I grew to resent the boy as I realized that he too needed taking care of and was certainly not in the position to rescue me.

I wouldn't call my return to the blogging world a come back, but rather, a new start.  I'm hoping I'll stumble upon a little of my old spark, but I'm mostly looking forward to the elation that comes with releasing all this craziness floating around in my noggin.  I'll be busy trying to squeeze back into these single mama shoes and hoping you'll hop aboard the crazy train and weigh in on such tectonic issues such as:

*what I should be when I grow up, and, in the meantime, any creative suggestions to a part-time gig that would allow me to balance mamahood with paying the mortgage?

*short of selling my soul to the devil, how can I get Beans to sleep so I can get some shut eye???

*dating.  again.  ugh.  does anyone know of a way to completely skip this part and go straight to the place where you feel safe, desired, and respected?  The place that you call home?  

I'm still romantic enough to go for that home run, even with the three strikes.  

 

 

 

Bon Voyage

Hi!  Where have you been?  What have you been up to?  What's new and exciting in your neck of the woods?

Enough about you.  Let's talk about me.  Ahem.  Guess who made the Dean's List, is now officially a college senior and applied for graduation with a mere 19 hours shy of her B.A. in English?   Yeah, that girl.

That same girl?  The papers have been signed and filed making her an official divorcee.   She managed to come through relatively unscathed. 

I know I promised to surface about a month ago, but this is truly the first opportunity I've had to show you some love.  We've been enjoying lazy afternoons at the pool, breezy summer concerts in the park and trips to the zoo. 

Four yard sales, serious hocking of my household goods on craig's list and somewhere around 400 ebay auctions later,  we've managed to scrape together the funds for the most awesome eleven day road trip ever.  We head out this weekend for Cali with stop overs in Colorado and Wyoming.   Camping all along the way with playdates planned here and here.  2100+ miles later, and we'll be in Santa Cruz playing on the beach and eating entirely too much food on a stick.  I can't wait. 

So, yes.  I am a tease.  I'm back but I'm taking off again.  See you in two weeks with lots of pictures and a play by play of our adventures on the road.  Until then, xoxo.

Happy, Happy Christmas!

Lil lu in her Christmas finery

Well, hello there! 

Oh, how I've missed all my blogging buddies.  Please know that you've never been far from my thoughts--I've just been one busy and happily distracted gal.  I'm sorry I dropped the ball on Show Us Some Skin but I promise we will pick up where we left off and ring in the New Year with a string of blogging hotties.

The girls and I had a truly wonderful Christmas surrounded by family and friends.   I found myself counting my blessings once again while basking in the glow of my girl's smiles as they shared their holiday with both mom and dad and wishing that all divorced couples could find the kind of peace and gentle transition that our family has managed to achieve.  Thank you to all my friends near and far who made our Christmas a little more special with your thoughtful, sweet gifts and sentiments.   

I walked away from the Fall semster with two A's and three B's.  I've still got two more glorious weeks of vacation before starting back up.  WooHoo!  What else?  Oh,   I've been nursing a wicked case of laryngitis for going on a week now.  Course, the girls are enjoying the fact that mom can't yell at them and that I can barely manage a whisper.  When I do manage to croak something out, it sounds like my best Stevie Nicks impersonation.  Waayyy hot. 

Home Sweet Home

A beaming Jordan with her perfectly scrumptious gingerbread house creation.

Baby, it's cold outside.  But here, in our little cottage, it's cozy and warm.  With our tree twinkling away in the corner, How The Grinch Stole Christmas in the VCR (yeah, we still use one of those) and two to four inches blanketing the front yard, it's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.   

Yesterday marked the last day of classes for the semester.  WoofreakinHoo!  As luck would have it, I've got two finals on Monday, a take home final (also due on Monday) in the form of a six page essay on Great Expectations , and a substantial revision of my short story to be completed no later than Wednesday evening.  But after that?  I'm free for an entire month and I plan to enjoy each and every wonderfully relaxing moment of it.

You know what?  It feels really, really good to be home.   After spending the whole of this past year getting more and more lost, compromising what mattered to me and allowing my personal happiness to be nothing short of second best, it's so nice to have found my way back. 

Everything Old Is New Again

Where does this tenderness come from?
These are not the- first curls I
have stroked slowly- and lips I
have known are- darker than yours

as stars rise often and go out again
(where does this tenderness come from?)
so many eyes have risen and died out
in front of these eyes of mine.

and yet no such song have
I heard in the darkness of night before,
(where does this tenderness come from?):
here, on the ribs of the singer.

Where does this tenderness come from?
And what shall I do with it, young
sly singer, just passing by?
Your lashes are- longer than anyone's. ~Marina Tsvetaeva