"How can I love them so much and at times want to pack up everything I own and leave?"
"I don’t want to break hearts, to stomp on people I love just because I am in one of those moods, he triggered me with words."
"does this happen? is this growing old? low balls? because i didn't fucking sign up for that shit."
Foxy, can I just say how magnificent you are? I'm saying it. You are magnificent. Each of you. It continue to blow me away, to be privy to such freaking fantastic writing, to the cross-sections of your lives. What Foxy described about waking up awake, how it changes the whole day, you see things more clearly for what they are, the magic... yes to this. I had those moments today of looking at my girls and feeling charged up, filled, in love, whooshing kind of feeling, those blue eyes and the crazy wild wind whipping off the lake. We drove up north a ways to a state park and nearly had the place to ourselves, just spent the whole afternoon skipping shale and running into and against the wind, laughing, making hammocks out of beach towels and finding frogs and having sun naps. On the way back we stopped of course for creemees and I just spent the whole day appreciating them, which is a good thing because getting out of the house was touch-and-go there, with Red's tension growing by the minute. I could tell he was on the verge of bailing out and was glad we managed to forge ahead and get out of town for the day. I couldn't face another Saturday morning of walking down to the Farmer's Market and shmoozing.
Ariel is quietly sitting at her desk. She is changing, that one. Wow. Seven in just three months. Humming to herself.
I am changing, too. How? Who the fuck knows. My usual nonsense of thinking about what I'm up to and what's next and is there some big pursuit on the horizon that I can't quite make out yet, coupled with just being here now and all that. Should I go for a low-residency Master's degree in transpersonal psychology? Should I get certified with Martha Beck as a coach? Could it be that I am just fine the way I am thank you very much and don't need to do a thing more at the moment?
We've been having more than usual sex lately. It is good, this sex. It is good to be wanted and to have orgasms while the college kids next door play their garage band in the basement and instead of being the dead-end street mom with kids asleep telling them to pull the plug for the night, I think about walking over to join them, see if they need a lead singer. Who am I? God knows, I'd rather be the lead singer, rather be Kim Gordon than Joan Cleaver. BRING. IT. ON.
Red and I are talking about making a "road map" for ourselves. We're almost always talking about the things we want to do - the someday things, like go live abroad - maybe in Israel - for six months, or learn how to sail, or the VW camper van of course, and rent a little cabin every summer somewhere and explore... I/we can get into this small mind trap that it's all predicated on "having money." It feels like a brick wall we don't have to walk into and break our bones time and again. I don't know if that made any sense but I'm writing on the fly and not going back to make sure. I'm sure you won't mind, right?
Ariel wants to show me her "whooooooole" scrapbook and just came running in and saw that I am drinking a Diet Coke and said, "Mama! Why are you drinking that? You shouldn't even be drinking that!" and I had that visceral kind of "Ack go away let me please please please finish writing can I have just three minutes alone I'll be right there I know I know" moment.
Inhale, exhale. Coming back around again. For the zillionth time today.
Thanks for caring. Picture big fireworks of love in the skies above you, coming from my general direction.
