Archive for August, 2008

Journaling prompt: What would we miss out on in life if our sole focus was material advancement?

If everything we did was just to make more money, to acquire more stuff, we would miss out on so much.

You would never paint just for the fun of playing with colors on paper

You would never write just because the words inside of you insisted on coming out, or because you love playing with words and language

You would never dance for sheer joy and happiness

You would never stop to take a photograph just because a moment, a scene, was so perfect,  you had to capture it the only way you know how

You would never experience the satisfaction in pushing your body physically past all limits, just to see how much you could do

You would never experience the quiet calm of meditating in the early morning light, or revel in the sun coming up out of the ocean

You would never experience the deep joy and comfort of waking up in your love’s arms, content to stay there and snuggle and not get up and Do

To me, that’s not a life at all


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Write from the point of view of the last tree standing in the forest

The silence is everywhere now. The rustlings, the whispered conversations, the settling in at night and stretching in the morning to greet the sun, the deep drinking after a rain, all gone. The wind tears through here now, and the sound is more empty, louder, almost harsher. I have lost parts of my self, I have bled and stretched out to reach for a brother, only to find more space. I felt the silent screams, I cried out with them, but no one seemed to hear. I stretch my roots as far as I can, when the sun alights in the sky and when the world grows dark and close at night, but find nothing. The birds, friends all, used to always talk, quietly in the early light and louder when the sky grew brighter. Now I rarely hear their voices. But I am here still, and I will keep waiting and calling out, waiting to hear conversations in the leaves, waiting to feel the presence of another when I drink deep.

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What is life?

That was a question that was prominent in my dream last night.

This dream, like many of my dreams, was very real, very clear, like watching a movie. It was sad and heartbreaking and oddly beautiful all at the same time. (disclaimer — I have not seen the movie AI Artificial Intelligence, but I know generally what happens, and my dream seems to have a similar theme)

This little boy was sent to Earth by his “mother,” and he was sent from across the universe.

He loved his mother, but quickly touched people here.

His mother finally sent a message that she wanted him back, but there was a lot of concern for the little boy. For one, his mother would have aged considerably in the boy’s time here, while the boy hadn’t aged at all. Also, while the boy loved his mother, the mother didn’t return the love. To her, he was a possession. He’s not “real,” in the sense that he is technically a robot. This prompted a conversation in my dream between some of the characters. Some felt that the boy should be allowed to return to his mother, because he loved her. Some felt the woman shouldn’t be allowed to have him back, because she didn’t love him and only wanted him as a possession. And because of that, she couldn’t see the boy for the wonderful person he is, and love him.

It also prompted a conversation in my dream about what is life, because the boy clearly was able to love, and he functioned and looked like a boy, even though he wasn’t “real.”

Very interesting dream.

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Sometimes, you just have to say….

A pup and her shadow

I really like this one, I feel like you can see the flower unfurling

A little boat and dock on the small lake near where I live

I love the dad showing his kids how to cast the fishing line

Technically, this isn’t from my neighborhood, it is from a shopping plaza near me, I was inside, playing with my new telephoto lens, but it was taken this weekend, so I’m allowing it in. Plus, I like it 🙂

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I’ve thought about sharing my story with B, and then I saw the Sunday Scribblings prompt this week, title “How I met my…” and decided now that B is here (yay! and more on that in a subsequent post), that the time was right.

We met in college our freshmen year, through our friend Christopher. I used to sit in Chris’ dorm room and listen to he and B strum on guitars, or we would listen to music from the Violent Femmes. I liked him, but he was seeing someone, so I didn’t think much of it.

Our sophomore year, we started spending more time together, when B was on campus (he didn’t live on campus like I did). By this point, I really liked him. He was so fun and silly and always made me laugh and was always up for crazy adventures. But I was unsure and didn’t know how to indicate that I liked him. We walked back to my dorm one night and he kissed me for the first time, and it felt like yes, this is what I’ve been looking for, and it felt like where I was supposed to be.

We dated most of the rest of the year. The girl who always thought she would never find someone to love her, who thought she was too different or odd somehow, she found someone she fit with, and laughed with and talked about anything with.

But I was young, we both were, and I didn’t know how to have healthy boundaries or healthy space. I know now that I was clingy. And I was preparing to go off to France for my junior year, and a year separated by 3,000 miles seemed like an impossible distance and time apart. And B thought so as well, and one afternoon, he came to my dorm room and told me he was breaking up with me. I watched him walk away, his long coat flapping behind him, with my heart crumpled on the ground, bleeding and feeling like my whole world had shattered. I felt like I didn’t even remember how to breathe. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, not when I could see a future with him so clearly.

I went off to France, and as the heart is wont to do, I got angry finally, because it was easier to be angry than hurt. But living apart from everything you’ve ever known, in a completely different world, well, it helps you to heal, it teaches you about yourself, and you can gain a better perspective on things as a result.

I returned to UNH the following year, no longer angry, but still feeling very much drawn to B. The first time I saw him that year, my heart leaped the same way it always had when I saw him, the distance and time apart had clearly not changed that. But again, I didn’t know how to tell him what I was feeling, and I wanted him to be the one to come back to me. He still didn’t live on campus, so I learned the days he was likely to be on campus, and would often go looking for him. He always seemed happy to see me, and we had as much fun together as we always did, but he never reached out to me the way I wanted.

After graduation, and after I returned from my trip to Ireland, I saw B again. I went up to NH for the day, and we went swimming in a quarry and talked and laughed. And my heart just ripped out of my chest again, because I loved him so much, and I thought he felt the same way, but he never reached out to me. That was the last time I saw him. I couldn’t take the pain of seeing him and loving him and not having him love me.

Time passed, years passed, but I never stopped thinking about him. I would look for him every now and then on Classmates or Myspace or other sites. I would find online listings for Brian S in NH, and wonder which one was him. I started dialing the numbers countless times, but I never completed the calls. Whenever I was in NH, I was always looking for him, feeling like I would see him again. But I never did.

But one day, I found a Brian S through Google, but there was no contact information for him. There was a contact for someone else (his manager, I learned later), so I debated back and forth, and wrote out an e-mail and gulped and hit send.

But I never heard back, so I didn’t know if I had found the wrong Brian, if my e-mail was never passed on or if it was, and he just didn’t want to contact me. It had been years since we had last spoke or seen each other, so I tried to put it out of mind. And I was mostly successful.

And then in November of last year, almost 10 years since I had last seen or spoke to him, I saw an e-mail come in from Brian S, with the subject line of the phrase I invented to say when someone hiccups — odd squat. I wrote back to him almost immediately, pretty much saying “Holy Sh*t.” We talked and started getting to be friends again. The connection we’ve always felt was as strong as it used to. I saw him in January and found that all my old feelings were still there, even stronger.

After some hard and major decisions, we began dating, me in North Carolina, him in NH, and somehow I was back to feeling my heart rip out on a regular basis, being away from him often left me feeling like I didn’t remember how to breathe. But we both knew it was worth the pain and the challenges and worth fighting for.

And now he is home. And it absolutely was worth everything.

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I got to playing with paint and color today 🙂

In real life, the color is so much more vibrant and fun, and it has lots of gold glitter on it 🙂 I love it (even though the letters bled a bit)

I’m not like the girls you’ve known — again, brighter, cooler green in real life

And my collage. It reads:

True religion is brilliant artistry deep within

Discover the power of bold inspiration

Yes! Today’s the day to flaunt

Invent your own rules

Simply designed for the extraordinary

What I want is a wake-up call for my inner goddess

For positive effects have a daily dose of fun

Even better, find your inspiration and express your own love

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Dance with abandon

Some photos of me dancing at the wedding, with my mom and then my dad. The wedding was…challenging, but there were some fun moments in there as well.

My dad and I were dancing to Staying Alive, I was doing the Staying Alive finger dance here

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