"If I Hide Myself ... "

"And for every useless reason I know, there's a reason not to care. If I hide myself wherever I go, am I ever really there?" (chorus lyrics from "For You" by The Barenaked Ladies)

What is wholeness for me? "If I hide myself wherever I go, am I ever really there?" I want to be real. Who am I? What do I want to say about myself? (as opposed to what I can say about myself.)

Don't you just hate it when you're crying and journaling and deep in your process and you turn the page to finish writing this important and vital point and you find a velociraptor sticker lodged in the crease of your journal from your son's collection -- and your point scurries out the window and evaporates skyward?

I had one. But now it's gone and I feel a strange mixture of lightness and sorrow.

Lightness because it was pretty silly to see the dinosaur peering out at me from the pages of my own journal -- like I'd caught him taking a shower.

And sorrow because it seems to always be this way. Just before I reach connection to Spirit or Muse and learn something vital to my personal growth -- I falter. Either from dinosaur stickers, or my son greeting me home before I even get out of the car because I was trying to steal a few minutes in the driveway to compose myself and journal after a counseling session, or just because I feel too drained to journal and watch a movie instead.

Reasons

Because he impulsively bought a yellow house with me when we’d only been dating for two months.

Because he loves to prowl around bookstores and drink coffee and watch movies – but that he also digs live music and culture and dancing.

That he likes so much variety in his music and movies; it’s part of what makes him so interesting.

And because he slowly explains Congress stuff to me and pauses West Wing to tell me what’s going on without getting irritated.

Because he cares about the rain forest and treating animals humanely and watches documentaries with me about food and the environment when he’d rather watch a mafia crime movie or boxing.

Because he’ll go to the Bijou with me even though the seats are murderous on him.

That his long slender fingers give me a thrill when I see them.

And because he traces my body under my clothes and that he loves when I wear stretchy pants.

Because he’s beautiful with dark, salty hair and full lips.

Because he buys me sex toys at Castle and brings them home as surprises.

That he asks the wait staff to bring me water with no ice and decaf coffee, and that he knows my drink is a fuzzy navel – and he knows how it’s prepared. (“You’re making that without vodka right?”)

And because he thinks I’m sexy -- though I’m often in denial of it.

Because he believes in me and wants me to live my dreams as artist and writer – or to at least try them on seriously.

Because he doesn’t laugh at me when I’m in earnest, but does when I jump up and down on the couch.

That he seems to have come back to the land of the living and ditched his online game for now.
And because he’s open to trying new things like No Shame and pedicures.

Because he is willing to be One of the Jackai, and that we have other private jokes like Emil the
Tentmaker and “Edwin, the towels are staring at me.”

Because he doesn’t say anything when I sneak butter on the popcorn at the movie theater.

That he kisses me long and soft and lets me sit on his lap.

And because my soul creaks and despairs when I imagine a life without him; and when he feels pain, I can’t breathe.

Because he holds me when I have bad dreams.

Because when I lose my temper and yell at the kids, he doesn’t judge me, but instead asks if he can help.

That he still kisses me on the back of the neck (and the front … and the side) because I love it so much.

And because when I’m feeling open enough and worthy of it, I can feel his pride in me – that’s always there if only I would let it in. (His love feels like that, too.)

Because sometimes I want nothing more than to lie in bed and watch a movie or a LOST episode on Netflix, and there’s such relief and glee when I find out he wants it, too.

Because we laugh together and he isn’t embarrassed by me – mostly.

That he still wants to be with me even after I make horrible errors.

And because I don’t know so many things – but that he wants to learn them all with me. (“It’s all about the journey, Baby!”)

My Guy

Paul in Maui.

Last Two Knitting Projects

I meant to take pictures of the two latest scarves I've knitted. But I gave them away first. Drat. So I scrounged around and found a couple teeny snippets of them. It was difficult to find pictures of a) the whole scarf and b) ones without people's faces showing. (I didn't get their consent before posting.)


I'm working on at least two more -- 'tis the season for scarves. I'm working on a maroon striped with a maroon tweed scarf for T.C. and a green wool one for A.Z. I've also got some luscious mocha brown and cream wool for another striped idea and some leftover black/gray/blue wool (like in the picture above with the shark pen) to stripe up with some solid black.

Yes, I'm into stripes right now.

Best go now, kids need a bedtime story.

Oh me, oh my -- only a tiny wallowing, and then BACK ON TRACK!

Sorry to have been so vacant on here. I've been to Maui.

And came back to gray skies and lots of laundry. :) It's all good though.

I'm feverishly knitting up last minute xmas and solstice gifts and ignoring my book proposal for the moment. First things first. (Though as I'm knitting scarves, I'm still thinking of the proposal. So, that counts for something, right?)

I'm babysitting right now so my friend and her husband can go xmas shopping (which I still need to complete myself, but at least I know what I'm getting and where to go to get it) and then a birthday party to attend for my kids' friend and then shuttling them off to another friends' house for a sleep-over, so that I can go to a party! (No Shame Eugene's End of Our First Year Together Cast Party!)

I really want to wear this dress to the party tonight, but I bought it in Maui -- where it was considerably warmer. Would it be completely stupid to wear it anyway? I'm thinking of bringing extra clothes in case I get too shivery. And wear long-johns underneath it. ;)

You think I'm kidding.

I'm that into wearing the dress.

Other stuff is happening in my life right now that is distracting me from the computer and this blog. And my writing. But I'm convinced that writing is therapeutic for me, so I will re-double my efforts to keep writing and slog through my personal stuff. It's critical for me to focus on it and I want to do it, but it's difficult, exhausting and a little sad. Maybe "slog" wasn't the right word. That would denote something unpleasant, and while my emotions wouldn't be classified as euphoric, I do have hope and love on my side.

So, come back dear readers. I'm still here. My visitor stats have dropped from about fifty to ... nine. Sigh. My own doing, of course, but it really would help my mood if you all came back and visited and cheered me on. :)

Until next time ...