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A new month!
Iím so excited. Possibilities abound.
Will this month bring introspective thoughts, anecdotes from the past, or a more creative form of writing?
Iíll accept whichever direction I end up exploring and not second guess or re-write entire weeks. Live with it! This is my ďblogĒ, so if you donít like it go read someone else.
(It seems Iíve recognized an audience outside of myself. Not sure thatís the best train of thought.)
Iím a newbie here, so please forgive me if I indulge in more personal communications.
(Wait! Howíd I manage to go from optimistic to apologetic?)
Clearly I have a penchant for the first person.
It seems to be easier I think, perhaps more of a dialogue. Vocabulary can sometimes be a hindrance so I look forward to its expansion (language being such a huge part of communication).
Though other modes of expression are just as important, being well spoken certainly is three quarters of the battle.
Especially in the electronic age we live in, email, text messaging rely on the senders ability to convey sentiment, otherwise the receiver may not understand or confuse the true intent.
As she lay with her new young lover, his arms wrapped affectionately around her, and feeling his breath on the back of her neck, she couldnít help but thing about Mason.
His commitment issues forced her to abandon all hopes and dreams of a full life with him. She longed for companionship, someone to talk to in the evenings, and to take walks with. Someone to cook for (cooking for one is so depressing), someone to spoil, someone... available.
Mason was in no way available.
He made every excuse to prove that point, driving it home time and time again.
Despite the warnings from family and friends she held on to every last hope that Mason would deliver on his promises and make an honest woman out of her.
But after fourÖ no thatís not right, after three years of listening to him promise one thing, and doing the exact opposite, she finally gave up.
Her heart simply worn down and could no longer take the rejection.
So when Mark expressed interest in her, she acknowledged him. And when Mark offered himself to her, she took him with open arms, into her life, into her home, and into her bed.
On occasion she would reach out to Mason, hoping perhaps that sheíd get a response, even though she ignored his calls, his messages and pleas right after sheíd made the split.
She hadnít handled it very well at all, and really had offered little in the way of closure for him. He (didnít, couldnít, wouldnít) give her any closure despite her repeated attempts to reconcile his words with his actions.
Hurt, confused and angry, she decided to ignore him, and not give in no matter how hard he cried.
Besides, Mark was living with her now. (Tíwas an abrupt arrangement.)
Definition: not present
Synonyms: away, gone, missing
Yes, this description fits.
My life is full of absences.
Absent familial relations.
Absently moving from day to day, quite unsure.
And most of the time I am absentminded, though this is a recent development.
Emotionally absent in my personal life.
Psychologically absent at work.
Physically absent from the One.
With so much absenteeism, one must wonder where the presence of mind to recognize it comes from. It was not a prodigious feat I assure you. Merely the willingness and acceptance to see what was right in front of me.
I woke far too early again this morning.
The sun hasnít even contemplated rising yet, but here I sit in the still darkness wondering what the hell Iím doing up.
Iíve always been a morning person but this is ridiculous. Three times in the last week Iíve woke and risen in the pre-dawn hours because Iíve been wide awake and unable to get back to sleep.
I admit I enjoy the tranquility of these early mornings, but they are starting to take their toll. Iíve tried to compensate by napping or going to bed early, but it just isn't helping.
It just occurred to me the date; the eighth day of the eighth month of the eighth year.
(Yes, ok of the second millennia, but that doesnít fit with the theme.)
I imagine the cosmos has something mystical planned. Then again Iím sure the universe doesnít follow the Gregorian calendar, in which case itís just another day.
But Iíd rather believe universal energy can recognize the importance we spirits place on our current finite experience. I really hope so anyway. Guess Iíll just have to wait one more year to find out. Iíve been waiting for 09/09/09 all my life.
ďSpeak nothing of thisĒ he pleaded with her on the phone.
She was shocked by his request, nor could she understand despite his justifications.
How could he be so cold to his only son? How could he put her in this position?
She had been trying very hard to distance herself from that father-son relationship because it only ever caused her pain.
Yet here again she found herself as the keeper of their secrets, lies, and a mother to her own festering fear of rejection if she did not comply.
Either way someone will get hurt, she likely, the worst.
How dare you ask me to lie for you! What kind of message does that teach?
I can only think of one other time I was more disappointed in you. No wait, two other times. (Must they bear repeating?)
I am ashamed, yet it is not my shame to bear. Responsibility aught to be a requirement for adulthood, but sadly that is not the case.
I cringe to think of all the times you lacked even common sense, never-mind responsibility.
Itís no secret that I have abandonment issues, but the realization that I have always been abandoned is strangely encouraging.
What have I to lose if you've never been there to begin with?
Do you realize the empowerment that bestows?
The freedom of fear!
How much would you pay to have a wish granted?
For me itís taken 15 years, two relationships and some chump change.
Was it worth it?
Only time will tell but I have a good feeling about it all.
Would I have preferred a less emotional cost?
However the emotionless way in which you conduct yourself has now prompted a different reaction from me.
Think Iíll take a page out of your book.
Iím not watching the Olympics this year. In fact Iím not even bothering to check our medal count. Iím avoiding all media reports about it.
Quite frankly there are far more news worthy stories such as the Russia Ė Georgia conflict, or how about the environmental catastrophes and human rights abuses taking place in this yearís host country?
Right underneath the noses of a world audience, who choose to turn a blind eye.
Well in all good conscience I canít.
And the hypocrisy thatís been taking place sickens me. Donít just talk about a boycott. Send a real message. Do it!
Before the rebuke beings Iíll just get something out of the way.
I do NOT shop at Walmart, or Dollar stores, chief purveyors of CCC.
(Thatís Ďcheap Chinese crapí to the average consumer).
In a wordÖDisposable
Use once, wear once, wash once and then have to replace it because it has fallen apart or no longer works. No wonder China is the world leader in natural resource consumption!
If we as a society werenít so frugal, and had just an ounce of global responsibility, the resulting corporate directional shift to quality over quantity would ultimately trickle down to their suppliersÖ.
It is very difficult when you get that callÖa parent that's been rushed to the hospital. You immediately become aware of their mortality and that's a hard thing for a child to deal with.
Parents always seem to be these larger than life beings in our lives, and although we know they are human and will eventually succumb to the laws of nature, it sort of conflicts with our image of this super being that have given us life, provided for and protected us.
We always expect that theyíll be there, except when that expectation slams face first into reality.
Iíve got a couple of pieces that need work.
I keep going back to a few of them, but havenít been able to pretty them up for prime time viewing.
A folder full of emotional torment. Each piece mocking me in that arrogant way as if to say ďYou donít have the guts to kill me!Ē The frustrating part is theyíd be right.
Each one a veritable birth of epic proportions. I need to nurture and mould them like the little smug, sassy and self-righteous children they are.
In my world WIP is an authoritarian tool to enforce ultimate rehabilitation.
When did wearing pyjama bottoms in public become acceptable?
Itís been going on for a number of years now and I neither understand it, nor accept it.
Granted the majority of people I see donning the aforementioned article are teens, and for fear of being hypocritical, the latitude for self expression can be granted.
But I absolutely draw the line with those over the voting age.
It is NOT cool. Itís not even OK!
How lazy are you that you canít change out of your sweaty nocturnal attire before venturing to the store for a quart of milk? Itís nasty!
Hey itís Sunday and I canít believe itís here
already! I start my vacation tomorrow.
Part of it will be spent with friends.
Part of it will be spent recovering. (Grin)
Yuill wonít be able to make it back in time
because sheís on a training assignment
in Yellowknife! The poor, poor girl!
(Remember to book that Yoga retreat)
This week will be a busy one however.
Hopping from place to place visiting everyone
Dad wants to take me out in his new boat,
and then there is the birthday party for Ely.
Yep, Iím going to need another vacation!
There are a few words and phrases in the English language that irk me.
The words themselves are not irksome, but the use of (or rather abuse) is truly what irritates me.
The word organic, for example, is one that really troubles me.
According to Merriam Webster, it means ďof, relating to, or containing carbon compounds".
Ok, that I can deal with, but why then do we refer to farming METHODS as being organic?
Or why do companies use the phrase "organic growth"?
Will someone please explain how the use of this word has found its way into everyday conversation?
Fusion is another abused word. I hear it everywhere.
Its definition means union.
So why is there a car that bears its name?
Did Ford stick a Chevy engine under the hood?
A digital video recorder also displays with pride the name chosen for it.
Again I must ask, what union has taken place within its chassis?
Unless of course, you consider parts made in Taiwan and parts made in China to be relevantly different.
Next we have Fusion cooking, of which I understand and accept as being a correct use of the word.
Regardless, the wordís misuse is rampant.
I was on my way out the door when my cell started ringing from deep within the bowels of the oversized handbag I was carrying.
Digging for it through overstuffed wallet, camera, comb, two books, a hair scrunchy, an airline bag tag, allergy pills and a bottle of water, I finally reach it as it stops ringing. (Of course.)
I open it up to view my ď1 missed callĒ figuring it to be Suz.
But your name slaps me in face and steals my breath. Why did you call? Why do you keep doing this to me? I canít cope!
Noticing the affinity for catch phrases, Iíve decided that I should open a shop called ĎOrganic Fusioní.
I could offer such things as organic cotton Ė hemp blended clothing, or perhaps have a section of the store selling organic strawberry lemonade.
The shopís name alone would draw the crowds in, despite the storeís offerings.
True Iíd be catering to a select group of customers. Those trendy eco-friendly hippie suit types with money to burn. (Interesting analogy)
Look out Lululemon, Slide over Starbucks, Watch out Walmart.
Organic Fusion is set to take the world by storm in the most idiosyncratic way possible.
Well itís been an interesting week, though Iím sure interesting doesnít even begin to describe it.
Things are never as they appear to be on the surface, though sometimes they are blazingly clear. To know the difference all one has to do is look into the eyes of a child.
The truth from pure innocence harbours no secrets. She is as she has always been. Slight, gentle, afraid, loyal, inquisitive, NORMAL.
The reality of nature vs. nurture has never been more clearly defined in my mind.
The child an infant, the child a woman, but never the child a child.
My brain is mush today.
After a long though completely enjoyable night out and only three hours sleep followed by a five hour drive home, I donít feel like doing much of anything.
This includes thinking, much less writing todayís entry.
Feel like putting my pyjamas on, throwing on a movie and falling asleep when and wherever I happen to.
But since I donít feel like getting up at 2am, think Iíll relax in whatís left of todayís sunshine.
Iíll make a few phone calls and let everyone know I made it home safe and sound so they donít worry.
YOU are selfish!
YOU are disrespectful!
YOU are ignorant!
YOU are a coward!
YOU should know better!
YOU are an asshole!
YOU are unbelievable!
YOU are a liar!
YOU canít be taken seriously!
YOU are unreliable!
YOU are insensitive!
YOU are intolerable!
YOU are absent!
YOU are my father!
I am pissed off!
I am disappointed!
I am hurt!
I am offended!
I am incredulous!
I am resentful!
I am wronged!
I am hopeful!
I should know better!
I am magnanimous to a fault!
I am strong!
I am experienced in your ways!
I am detaching!
I am your daughter!
The sun shines bright and hot today and the breeze is absolutely luscious.
I could so easily fall asleep out here on the patio, if my brain would relax.
Iíve been looking for a bowl meditation CD but havenít had much luck. I spoke to a fellow yogi to find out if she knew where I could get one.
She finds however that actually making the bowl sing is what lulls her into deep meditation.
Perhaps I should try this route? A bowl would cost as much as a CD anyway.
Now Iíll need to find a pitch I like.
Iím not real sure what to make of yesterday.
It started out like any other Monday, or any other day for the last two months period. I wasnít feeling particularly vulnerable. Quite the contrary really, I was feeling strong and healthy.
And then it cameÖ your email.
How three little words can turn you inside out and make you completely unrecognizable is beyond me. I stared at it for a while, and before my brain could catch up with my heart, I logged on and found you.
We didnít say much, but there was some kind of comfort in it.
I am slightly surprised that I did not unexpectedly run into old acquaintences when I was in Suds. I did see a few faces that looked familiar, but I wouldnít go as far as embarrassing myself by saying hello.
Then again I did meet a few new people, so maybe thatís Fateís way of making up for reminiscence? Iím not too disappointed however; I saw almost all of the important folks.
It was the longest visit Iíve had since moving more than ten years ago. Not surprisingly, it was all still very familiar, even if not all the faces were.
Asha has pointed out on numerous occasions that I havenít made a ďhomeĒ here. That despite societal integration, I remain reserved and hesitant in creating a comfortable atmosphere for myself.
I canít deny it. Perhaps I am uncomfortable in my surroundings which prevent me from truly enjoying my life? I donít know if itís a remnant of the detachment I had to create in order to leave the only home I knew, ten years ago? Or if itís a mature realization that people changeÖ that Iíve changed, and I no longer fit in the mould I originally created for myself.
Have you ever noticed how your personality changes among different people? How you relate to one person at work is different from how you react with another.
This particular awareness became screamingly clear on my week off. I felt so completely free and at ease. If I may be candid, I felt more myself than I have in a very long time.
I could attribute it to being in familiar surroundings, with people whom I am close toÖ but if I am to be perfectly honest, it was the lack of company of certain particular person.
HmmmÖ go figure.
I really shouldnít be surprised.
Our history alone tells a story of mutual admiration and co-dependence.
Itís not healthy, but tell that to a heart that loves unconditionally, or to a soul that grieves intimately.
Ours has always been a love story without and ending; not that itís much consolation.
Maybe I should be used to the tumultuous relationship by now.
How can I expect this time to be any different when you still profess to love me? And yes, I do still love you. You know I always have, and always will.
Our story doesnít have an endingÖ remember.
Well I guess this is the second month down, and itís been relatively painless (the actual task of writing, not the content).
Itís been fun, itís been real, itís been cathartic.
I had every intention on ending this month with some sort of inspiration, gleaned from introspective thought. But about the only thing Iíve been able to come up with is, ĎIf itís not useful to you, move oní, which is neither inspirational nor all that reflective.
But it is relevant in my world, which is really all that matters.
I wonder how next month will turnout?
Bring on September.
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