closing the curtain

geezus. the fall thing is killing me today. the same struggle as always, with family and husband and weather and aches and pains and too much time on my hands and all the meaning in the world being in those same hands...the center of the universe really.
and then not at all. just a speck in the myriad universes.

yoga is breaking my knees. and I am working my thighs like nobody's business but my knees are on fire . and that means I am old. OLD. because i have a post about aches and pains of the external sort. i think my grandmother would tell me to get on with it, get something done. but i can't hear her that well today. . .

OLD.
sometimes the part of me which is embittered is all on the surface, the little man from the inside who is usually skipping and dancing about is all stillness and grey. statuette. and today i am there. right there. in the still and the grey . and it is hard to get my kids up for their costumed hysteria and it is just hard to see how hard it is for me.
maybe my old is compounded by my lonely.
maybe i should fly back out to wisconsin.

boy joy

this is the morning... these are the red creatures that I lay claim to.
(in the kitchen-which i blame on someone else)

the boys are currently: laughing and pulling each other up onto the 'mummydaddy'bed...getting under the blankets and giggling wildly. this, interspersed with the wild sword waving, will surely lead to a moderate disaster. and yet I let it go, as I type, for there really isn't anything better in the entire world. and i hope i get to say a sentence like that everyday for the rest of my life.

and then there is this: twice in the past week my older son has done this: (two semicolons, ike) 'i can't be the mom, i'm a boy.' in the house corner

or

'i don't want the princess cup, thats for girls.' these are the same cups he himself selected not four months ago. . .

this is NOT an okay thing to hear from my darling sugarbutt boy... changing tides! hard for me, dismissive of my role, heightening/showcasing my familiarity with the very VERY same feelings... how long does it last? what will he think of me when he is a man? where the hell am i ?

as if i need to worry about what one more person thinks of me. but he IS an important one.

working on it, still.

true, rue the fall

here it is, the melancholy of the fall... was here before will be again .
and so forth.

but i'm still feeling the simple, all over.
simple, simple.
symbol.

the smells of damp leaves. leafs.
books dug out, titles searched, covers coveted. . .
the boys are asleep and i'm letting them go and go and go
in the hopes the flu will pass this house by ... no vaccines mean mama's not feeling risky with the exposure gang.

so - forth.

Believing or not*

*don't read this if you feel like taking offense today:



I think that oneof the things that bugged me about 'that woman' is that I was caught off guard. I had thought she was a whole lot of things and now I think she may be one of those people who believes in nothing but wears the trappings of many things.


and I think that somehow equates living a passionless life.


and it wigs me out.
(i'm still thinking about this woman too much and that wigs me out too)


Mama Mama Quite Contrary commented to me: Your post has me thinking about religion as a cultural identity. Do you think for a person to identify themselves as a certain religion they must believe in god? I'd love to hear more of your take on this. .



yes, there is 'cultural identity' ...

there is tradition, history, ritual. if you don't Believe in what backs it up, the faith that caused all the beliefs/miracles/struggles, then are you in fact, of that religious faith? how could you be? right?
but history/tradition/ritual, are real, strong, beautiful things. . . and identifying yourself with those things of beauty is fine by me. but that is different from a belief system. i guess its probably academic semantic blablah.
I'm leaving out all capitals for the proper nouns as it evens things out for me . for me.

there is semite, one whose lineage traces back to a specific region of the world. and then there is jew. the chosen people are the chosen people because they believe in the ONE. the original christians are jews. since then, the christians are christians because they believe in a radical god-born jew. so. -no belief? culturally attached but not religiously. i'm a stickler. I hesitate to call myself a christian because i like the whole jesus thing but its not a very DEEP part of my faith, just a familiarity... like i'm part of the 'tradition' but I'm so old testament. SO old testament. in talking with my husband about it, I realized how real it is for me, the escape through the red sea with Moses. I don't know if there is a huge community of people anywhere who identify strongly with that. Maybe its the Jews. . . (I should check with Chakra Carol... find out if she thinks I was ACTUALLY there..) :)

Its not the 'chosen' aspect of it, but its the fleeing, the miraculous escape part that I call my own. . . the flight into a rough but passionfilled and dangerous existence. out of childhood into adulthood.. the risk of a nonsensical faith that somehow fills one up and provides bread to the soul.

*I'm definitely of the old school, have no need to mess around with the pronouns of God... in my head I turn all stories of gods, goddesses, spirits, flows, into one lump sum of God and I use a masculine in my language. thats all. . . I find it all fits just fine.

also, correct me if need be.

my god, this may be my most rambling and incoherent writing yet. rockit.

some of what i believe..

lately i have bumped into a woman that I do not really appreciate. It is a pretty rare thing. I call her 'that woman'.. she has made me unbelievably angry at times and often I feel that there is some 'miss' in her psyche and I am just generally uncomfortable around her. add to that, our kids don't play well together. Ok? so. on the last playdate, and I mean it, the LAST. I told husband that I would not do it again, I do not care to spend my lovely time on this earth being polite through my teeth. that is not what it is all about. (this may cause difficulty for my husband, as there is a professional connection here.) anyho. the last playdate circled around how great the church/temple can be for community building but really, all she wanted to do was chant and beyond that she had no connection with the religious community in which she was raised. I CANNOT understand.


I am aware right now that I do not want to talk about her anymore. It is bad juju.
-------------------------------


GOOD JUJU:

I BELIEVE in many golden Bright and glowing things. . .

I Believe in the light which is in me, which recognizes the light which is in you. (most of the time, even'that woman', she probably has it. i mean, she does have it. ar.)... yes, namaste.

I believe that the biggest blessings are often the most difficult.

I Believe in the the belief behind the actions...

I believe in ritual if it is mindful and habit can be a powerful ritual and back and forth... and back and forth.

I believe that you must try hard, almost all the time.

I believe that my grandmother went to heaven when she died, and is currently playing scrabble.

I believe that clean laundry is a sign of love , doing it is an act of love. here. , someone has said THAT way better than I .

I believe that my husband and I are equally committed to our struggling relationship...

I believe that my boys are growing up so incredibly fast. and I am learning, I am moving at that speed too.

I believe my job may be as simple as loving the kids for the majority of the day, and feeding and clothing them.

I believe that cardinals are a sign that God loves beauty, and sparkle, and frivolity.

there is a hell of a lot more.

what about you?

simplicity

my dad is good. a good one, now. he was at some sort of church gathering and they all had to talk about what they were personally doing to make the world a better place. I have no idea what my dad said. but what he recounted was a husband/father guy who stood up in the crowd of several hundred and talked about how he had decided that it was his mission to make sure his kids and wife all started their days in happiness and peace. He was taking charge of the mornings, making lunches, taking the 'rush' out of the breakfast scene and by creating these swirling oasises (oasies? idonno) of peace, sending them happily along their merry way, he was potentially changing the world for the better.
so, right on.
of course, the cynic in me was scREACHING ... they're already in school?!!where the hell have you been til now? what the hell?!
and then, i stopped screaching and thought about how nice it was and how simple it all is. to relax, to look around and have some faith that it is all so simple. what is good is really what we have going on. we are where we are meant to be, doing what we are meant to be doing. what we are Meant for? you have to sort that out for yourselves, as I have no idea... but i've been digging around and looking it up. its evidently not on facebook, though you can get messages from God there. seriously, check it out. you can.
i'm really out of my mind bored with blogging and need some impulsive inspirations. I'm not sure that my posting randomly and impetuously is the best answer to my selfexpression.
but i'm a plugger.

i'm going off to hum the simplicity song. . .
you know, 'tis a gift to be simple.. tis a gift to be free...tis a gift to come down where we ought to be...and when we find ourselves in a place just right.. to bow and to bend shall be our delight...

OH Lord, it is fallaflame...

Yesterday and today have been the most perfect days in the world, in the weather department. The colors are just breathtaking and there is just something about the light, the sun, the smells .. it is astounding.

AND, I hired a babysitter.

I know, I know, you say, subject change ahoy! but no, not really, because I HAD said babysitter, I actually saw this weather with my own eyes, without the filter of.. 'oh, I need to make sure C hears the leaves rustling... I need to get E. 's mouth off the leaves... ' Oh.

It was cool. I ran around like an extremely nervous fowl when they left for the park and did all the weeks chores in about 10 minutes- which, either begs the question 'why does it take me so long otherwise?' OR 'how crap a job Did I do?' but I'm not going down that path . I'm just amazed at the day and the fact that it has been four years since I've seen the fall like this. four.

I've got to start opening my eyes more often.

I also had yoga again, it is good to sweat outside of the house sometimes. very.

Otherwise, I've got nothing to type and am working on this post just to feel connected to the process ... maybe i'll go for a walk, a zoo trip... something when the nap ends to get the kids to do all that rustle-listening and leaf-eating after all.

latenight at the oasis, if it be so.

i'm excited and i'm blagh. i am OUT of it. and i am constantly returning. i'm always tired, and I do have lots of cofee in my neural network. i am trying and i am failing and i am winning. did i mention i was lazy? because i am. I have great hope. I am a spleenfull of disappointment because of my ever recurring hope. I am working on compassion but don't fully understand it. I know we are all large glowing orbs of God's work, and sometimes I still don't like my neighbors, and I don't trust the guys who ask me for a light, don't like my husband. It is right and meet that I should be this way, yes?

so far away

i've been away... and i'm still there. can't seem to get my head back into my space. LOVE my boys. man, do .
i'm pretty much wishing the rest of the world would dissipate though, so I can start to figure things out... get my space filled and empty all at once. . .
went to a yoga class this morning after many hours of negotiation with spouse (generally supportive but difficult to rearrange work /childcare/schooldropoff/lunch and so on) and while there i'm full of staring out the window while my body moves in and out of its positions with scant attention to my eyes wandering. it was good and i'm still away.
i'm confident i will return but wonder if that is for the best, or if this space is better. . .

101. and it'll break 'the seal'

this is a gift I gave to Pam and forgot all about . (thank god she keeps these things around...)

good girls are
not always what we seem:
unfailingly polite, taking the
smallest portion,
cheerful as daffodils, ordinary
as buttered toast, comfortable as
cotton socks.

Take off our glasses. Tenderly
remove our wristwatch. Unlace
our sturdy shoes. Let the wind take us.

Alone in our foyers,
the moon behind our eyes,
we move our hips like
pagan queens and sing a poem
we used to know. Our little cats smile.
Our little dog grins. The coyote howls.

wild roses cling to our skirts.
milkweed snags our hair.
There are paring knives in our
silverware drawers, black
feathers under our beds, stone hearts
by the welcome mat.

good girls are everywhere.
This is a good and dangerous thing.
And though we are not what we seem,
you will know us.

Look again at our eyes.

timely

this is the one hundredth post. doesn't mean much, but i'm glad i've kept it up. still haven't packed but there is enough snackfood in the house to get us all through the depression.
literally. and all their clothing is washed. all of it. they are naked currently. No, not really. just feeling chilly and in need of juju fish. going to get some. happy 100.

Monsters and Biology

today i'm some kind of wierd eating monster. chips, cookies, and why are they in the house in the first place? i never eat this shit and the counters are FULL of it. and yesterday my body kicked in and said, 'c'mon, lets get pregnant again.'.... yes it did. and no, i didn't .
with a four year old in the bed, romance is somewhat stifled. wish i could get him the hell out. wish i could figure out biology to speak its language. and wish my inner dialogues could get out faster, appear funnier, be more informative/interesting/challenging. and i'm still eating and I could swear that I don't actually like Doritos. well, i love the cool ranch ones, but that is not where I am at. . . I am getting ready to leave on monday night for four days. and I think leaving will physically hurt me, while the being away will be somewhat glory-filled. Wisconsin in the fall is a brutally beautiful thing. and I will be with Pam, love of the friendshiplife that i have had. If I didn't like malefemale sex so much, I would definitely be her slave. But I do, so I am friends instead. . . and gloriously.
my husbands parents are moving in to the house for the days I am gone. I'm glad because it should take much of the stress off his shoulders and I am peeved because amazingly, I do it by myself every single day and noone moves in to take the stress off my shoulders. we are all amazing. all of us. I do not feel good about myself for my peev-ation. heh. I think I need to get away for a little bit, as luck would have it. ah.
maybe even have a second drink, a long lay about, a made for adults type movie... my god, maybe even in a theatre. shit.
so- do i actually want to be pregnant again? how the hell would i figure out another baby? should i figure out when its best to be that tired? summer, winter, what.
dude. someone tell me what to do with my life. my inner dialogue is way slower than my fingers fly.
theres a shiny flicker down there and i'm a bit worried its telling me to have a baby. again.