what we know, when we know it

...after the unexpected pleasure of sipping coffee pretty much all darn day long, I vibrate happily down the sidewalk.
I thought about my life and the path I move along.  How I didn't predict it and how I have wished it was different and then on a day such as this, how I'm so overwhelmingly grateful for this exact path, worn out as it seems at times, there is no place I'd rather be then here, walking this way, in these shoes, with these companions and all my co-travelers.  

Pace quickening, heartbeat accelerating, palms sweating; with every step closer I feel the hopefulness spread through me, like the smile spreading across my face.

I am excited to see him and whats even better is, he is excited to see me.  Excited, not relieved, but just plain old vanilla excited.  Wahoo!

I realize it's too soon to tell, but then again, I always know exactly what I feel the moment I feel it.  

I'd save a whole lot of time by just taking what I see when I see it, believing that it is what I want.  Why do I hesitate when it comes to trusting my guttural decision making skills?  Why do I insist on over speculating, questioning whether or not it's just right, when I tend to know right away what is right?

I know who I love, how to dress, what to order, where to live and which is best, but the knowledge is so instantaneous that I often can't trust it.  It should be harder, right?    

I lamented about a decision for my boy and I wondered what was right and if and how and why, but I knew pretty much from the moment I saw it, that the place I'd place him, would be a fit...and it is.

Bingo.

He's back...

Holding hands, chatting away, watching for cars in the parking lot, but animatedly discussing the day and how it slipped away, this n that, that n this.

"Buckle up", I say

"Your car smells new mom".  I laugh, because it does NOT and yet in a strange way it does, everything feels and smells and just seems new today.

"Ooh.  Can I have this mommy?"   

"Why Baby?  Are you thirsty?",  I ask him as he drains the contents of my Smart Water bottle into his very tiny tummy.

"No, not thristy", followed by a belch.   Then so matter of factly he adds, "I'm going to fill this with concrete then shoot it out of a cannon"; said with all the confidence and conviction of a boy who actually owned a cannon along with a handy sack of concrete waiting to be mixed back at home.

I steer my car out into the street and smile more.  Smile even bigger then my face.  

"Thats a great idea.  You do that".  

artista

What once was a church in the center of a medium sized city, in this large state of our huge country, we four sit.  

Without turning my head at all, I can, in my mind clearly see their faces perched on top of rigid postured, stiff shoulders - one on either side of me.  He is not having it, she's lost in thought, concerned about something, but not something I could likely imagine.   And the smallest of us set upon my lap, for lack of an empty chair, whispers that he's hungry.   I point out that there is no eating in this auditorium as I fish from my purse a crumpled, well traveled package of Nutter Butters and open it for him.  
We are all contradictions, much as I strive to be the answer to the question of us, I am, I must admit, only part of our unsolvable equation.  

Just 11 years old and we are pressing the question; "What do you want to be when you grow up?"   Remarkable thing is, she actually knows the answer.   Confidence doesn't mean you're outgoing, nor necessarily that you are comfortable in crowds.  It doesn't mean you'll make eye contact or speak when spoken to.   It doesn't mean you have friends and dine at a crowded lunch table.   It doesn't mean that you'll try to be funny like your mother or stoic like your father nor smile all the time like your brother.  
It means that you know who you are inside, despite what you display on the outside.

Art  school tour

In private she expresses her concerns about her own artistic ability.  I tell her that she's truly "more then capable, but that if for any reason this place feels like it's too much,  we can make other choices".   "Lovely choices" I assure her.     She wants this, she really does and she's sure.  This is what could make her happy but no one would believe it, because she's barely looked around, not cracked even a half smile.  She's mopey and slow to move.   She is awkward in public today and it winds me up like a twister.   Where she is flat, I'm bubbly.   When she's quite, I'll speak.  She looks down, I turn up, she recoils, I shift forward, she ignores, I adopt.   
Compensation personified.  

I want to shield her from the not so nice things in this life, just as I am certain that I can't and also positive that she can endure more then even I could, ever.  

About all the things I wonder, she doesn't question.   Where I'm open, she's impenetrable.   What I wait for, she's passed.   Everything that pushes me, pulls me, tears me - she is numb to.  
Compensation personified.

I have never been able to see my future, try as I might, I couldn't picture it or my place in the years ahead - until just today, focused on where she'll go, I saw it.  
I saw myself with her and so now I know and I feel it ... my life will be long.


"All the art of living lies in the fine mingling of letting go and holding on".  H. Ellis

get over yourself

resolutions schmezolutions.

I like em.  I do.  I like the idea of clean slates, new beginnings as much as anyone.  

Like a new car;  no dents, full tank, new wipers, bright headlights -- just add an open road.  

Yet, try as I might, I can't keep my resolutions, well at least not entirely.   And I wonder why.

Today as I moved round my house, accomplishing nothing much, but in this lack of accomplishment my thoughts had the opportunity to go full circle.  

Full circle is a good thing.

My resolution for the year 2013 was; "be open to more and feel less guilt".   For what good is there in being open if truly unreceptive?   It's like taking a voyage without suitcases but carrying heaps of in-obvious baggage.  

Not much good about that.

Today I contemplated my past and then more recent resolutions and what exactly they were founded in.   

It's almost as if I wanted to resolve to forget myself.   Leave behind bits and pieces of me that didn't pan out or produce the desired affect.  Like I wanted to absolve me of, well, being me.  Not so easy.

And so I wondered what about myself and what I did last year 

and the year before that 

and the year before that 

and before that

and before that

what about me and "her" and who I was did I not just love and adore?   

What about me did I not want to take into my future?  And in the end, the end of my thoughts and the END of 2012, I concluded that there was not much about me that I didn't really love.  There was plenty I was ashamed of.   Tons I would have done differently knowing what I know now.   Much I should or could apologize for, perhaps.   Some I'd like to hide or consider lying about, but not really.  Nope, not really.  Because if I didn't have that, if I didn't do, see, feel or take part in all of that, then I'd not be this.   And what is this?   This is a woman who loves her parents, despite the odds.   This is a mother who can't get enough of her kids.   A sister who adores her siblings, more so each passing year.   A friend who can never repay the kindnesses shown to her.   A responsible pet owner who resists the urge to euthanize her dogs for being a-holes regularly and doing things like eating the last Duraflame log ( I really felt like a semi-artificial fire that night).   A volunteer who isn't afraid to hug other people's children, despite the social stigma.    A nurse who loathes the healthcare system.   An investor who fears the bank.   A chick who buys dresses without having anyone to wear them for.    Someone who says no, but means yes and vice versa.   A female who is not afraid to live alone, independent utterly.  A choice maker who makes decisions and deals with the results, good and bad... and here is the kicker, when you deal with your choices, in the end, there isn't any good or bad - there is just change. 

 AND change is good.  

I am a mess but not really, not when I look at myself with eyes that don't see everything I ever did and was and wasn't.   I am in fact the anti-mess.  I am just fine or really fabulously close to fine.   

So -  I wouldn't neaten my life up given the oportunity.  I would not have kept those now seemingly silly little resolutions I made before.  I wouldn't change a thing about it all.  I wouldn't dare go into the uncertain future unless I'd experienced the unavoidable mistakes and rewards of my past.  

I wouldn't alter a thing, except maybe one - I'd have accepted myself for just exactly who I am/was/am.  

That alone requires a huge amount of resolve.

RESOLUTION 2013, accept yourself.

It's alll about you.

Happy New Year.