some day

i used to think that no one would love me because

my kids were too wild too crazy too loud

my house too messy

my thighs too big

and my intellect too proud


my children are grown

and my house is less messy

my thighs are just right

and my intellect, intact


my imagination has grown

large enough to imagine

a love big enough to dream

strong enough to embrace imperfection

and steady enough

to invite itself in and stay

coming down and the river of gratitude

today I have a whole day of no work

just play

whatever that means anymore

as my writing has become work

as my work becomes play sometimes

as my self becomes my work

as my worth has become tangled up in

measurement of cash and education

that translates into letters after my name

and the addiction to praise to being smart

enough

and I let the layers fall away

it is a bit painful

to feel

but underneath

is the soft fleshy part

that is real

and I am grateful

for the pain

for the beauty

for the intensity

with which I am allowed to live my life

flowing like a river

teeming with life

forms too many to count

so I feel my pain

feel my bliss

look upon my children

my grandchildren

my friends

my family

try to count the stars

in gratitude

for every single breath

give up counting

and just rest in

blessings

New Car

Getting what you want. How hard is that? Sometimes not so hard, if what you want is a cup of coffee. Knowing what you want? I think this is the tricky part for many of us. We are born into a life that we have no control over, except in our brain, the part of us that screams at our caregiver as soon as we can, “You’re not the boss of me.” This we know, that somewhere, deep inside, we are actually our own boss. Some people grow into this, their autonomy is nurtured, and applauded, and they learn to take steps to take good care of themselves. For others, this child's autonomy, this personal power, is a threat to their parents or caregivers, something to be squashed. My mom, for example, when I was pretty little, would actually tell me about my older siblings getting into trouble and how she punished them, and then she’d say something horrible like, “I wasn’t about to let those little shits get the best of me.”

When I was a kid this sounded bad and scary, and it still does now, and I wonder, should I even share this? But there it is, and it’s the truth. Just recently, at 85, my mom shared with me that her mom would beat all of her children with a strap, that way, if she didn’t know who was the culprit of what ever small thing a child might have done wrong, she would have at least whipped the guilty party. What does this do to the child’s autonomy, the child’s right to keep themselves safe? What does it do to their sense of caring for their sibs? Their small sense of self feels the sting, and carries this pain with them, maybe for a lifetime. Maybe then, whipping their own children. My mom went on to tell, that her youngest sister, intent on keeping herself safe, hid the strap down the drain in the basement, where their dad found it, when the sinks wouldn’t drain. I imagine, she simply got the strap, again. I wonder, how all this beating of children got started, was deemed, OK?

What’s this got to do with getting a new car? Well, really all of life is interconnected, we try to chop it up into different parts, work, school, at school, different disciplines, you get the drift. For those of us who think integrally, this can be very confusing, we have to learn to un-connect all the connections we see, to survive in some way. To get the ‘right’ answer, when we continually see, there is no one right answer. That the truth is in the interwoven-ness of all of life. But the ones who think there is only one right answer are often the ones with the strap.

Because of the circumstances in which I was born, and grew up, I didn’t think I could ever really get what I wanted, and so I was taught to be happy with what I got; even if I was unhappy. Being happy was a value, and even this, I could see and accept, what with so much beatings and unhappiness all around. I was fortunate in many ways, and happy to be alive, especially when I wasn’t being oppressed in my family. I loved the sky, the clouds, the lakes that I grew up surrounded by. I grew up with lots of music, since most of my sibs were teenagers when I was young, and there were the band concerts from Lake Harriet that would waft through the summer night’s air.

Sometimes, my dad would take us younger kids in the station wagon and park in the Lake Harriet parking lot to hear the band concert. He’d buy us popcorn, as we waited in the car, jammies on. Life could be good, and if you wanted a box of hot buttered popcorn, you got what you wanted. Every so often, like magic, your wish would come true.

A few years ago, I needed a new car. My old car was paid for, but costing me lots of money in repairs. I didn’t even know who to trust about it’s worth, or if I should continue to fix it. So, I traded it in for a newer car, sight unseen, that my brother-in-law drove down from up North. It didn’t take me long to know I didn’t like this car, but I’d bought it, and I was uncertain as to how to proceed. I was working full-time and in grad school, and I just wasn’t in any sort of place to take the time to think about what I wanted or didn’t want in a car. So, I did nothing, and kept the car, unhappy, but not knowing how to resolve it.

I kept trying to tell myself, it was ok, I was lucky to have a car, and a newer car, but really, I didn’t like the car. It didn’t handle well for me, and it was not a good fit for me to comfortably drive. I wanted a new car. I didn’t know how or if I could afford one, but the day came, just last week. My car needed work again, while I was still making payments, and I mentioned in the service garage how frustrated I was. Well, they hooked me up with a salesperson, and instead of putting more money into a car I didn’t like, I started over, putting money into a brand new leased car. A car that I like. It resonates with the person who is the boss of me, inside of me. The person who knows what I like and don’t like, but just gets lost in figuring out what is acceptable to like, what is ok to want to go after, in a world where getting exactly what one wants out of life seems, well, unthinkable. Because, well, you should just be happy to not be being beaten.

fear of flying

You’ve heard it before, fear of failure, fear of success, it’s one or the other or a little of both when we have the fear of the future, fear of the unknown, when we leave the comfort of what we know for the unknown. Trouble is with life, it just never, ever, really stays the same. Maybe the trick is to balance out the known with the unknown, if this is possible. To have just the right percentages of safety and adventure, but then I’m sure those percentages are just not the same for each person, or even the same for the same person, at different times in their life.

So, here I am in the space of the extra hour of daylight savings time, filling out paperwork for new office space, feeling very anxious, and yes, afraid. And so I had to ask myself, “What am I most afraid of?” And part of it is not wanting to let people down, not wanting to fail, and not wanting to be vulnerable, in that place of not knowing, and having to trust other people to trust me, that I can do ok. And so, I have to feel my fear, my heart racing, my shoulders tensing and move into the future. I have to still the thoughts that say, “Just stay where you are, it’s not so bad.” As if there really is ever an option, to stay where we are.

I do keep thinking about how hard life is, not necessarily physically hard, but its these existential dilemmas that keep our breath rattling around in our bodies, instead of coming steady and strong, peace in, anxiety out. The thoughts wondering if we’re measuring up, or not, the worry of “Is this all there is?” that seems to come out of nowhere, just when we think we’ve got it all figured out. So, I’m trying to figure out my base line, where is it that I can just live and love and accept myself and others. To say, so what if I fail? I can always come back home to myself, breath in, breath out, and start all over again.