Driving Sideways

The morning after gave me no sense of eruption or free fall into guilt and sadness.  Rather, at least up until today, it feels more like paying up on a debt.  The breaks on life is lifted.  I am my own agent where success and failure is mine to own.  My girl asked me this morning why I keep having to repeat myself with her regarding my reasons for this transition in life and the constant attempts to reassure her of my affection.  Apparently, she already knows where I stand and I don't have to say it too many times.  A few times is enough.  The rest is what it is.  The tao of a four year old.  I am taking a lesson in my own book regarding karma.  That is, our children cannot move forward beyond life's obstacles until their parents move beyond their own.  At this point, it's time to move forward, avoid the drama and live for tomorrow and all it has to offer.  There was much that had been gained in the past but for good reason, had to end.  At this moment, it's time to let go of the ashes and proceed.  Good people are waiting for us to carry on.  Sometimes, we must move sideways at a hard right angle to get to the next forward moving track.       

A Summer To Remember

Dear Honey,

I'd bought you a little drawing book this weekend.  In it were stensils of stylish clothing wear and stickers of accessories for my blossoming designer.  I flipped through it tonight and admired your art work.  I am not completely surprised but simply impressed by your budding sense of style and your ability to translate it on paper.  Just like me, we seem to be better on paper. 

Tonight, as I dropped you and your sister off at Lota's, you said to me that you were afraid.  Afraid of missing me too much this weekend.  After all the ups and downs this week as we recovered through your tonsil surgery, you still had it in you to tell me you loved me and that you missed me.  Do you know that I feel the same way?  About you and your sister? 

As an adult, you'd expect that I would have it figured out enough by now to keep things secure for you.  But I am trying to answer questions still which seems so selfish but I say to myself that it's in the hopes that I can answer them for you along the way. 

Sometimes, when time is short, we try to make up for it however best we can.  This week has been a summer to remember.  I hope you never forget it either.  Beaching out on the sand, catching dead fish, building sand castles and filling up our spiritual tanks.  I still have that one fish you caught sitting in your sister's sippy cup.  It may stink up before the end of week.  But it's quite a sight at the moment, on my window sill, with your little flower that we planted in the pot.  Thank you so much for the seeds that you sewed in my other pots that you left in my garden.  You are a mother's dream and my blessing.  You and your sister are my angels and fairies. 

If you were wondering, I miss you too.   

cracks in the core

Sadness comes from disappointment.  The precedence of the first broken promise.  An experience of lost innocence.  That is the human experience of nature and fate.  I wake up on occasion from recurring dreams that I am looking backwards from the sidelines asking if that is all?  The epic journey concluding so abruptly.  Even if the story was a bitter one to take, the ending always feel unexpected.  I mourn a loss, one that I ended by my own choice.  It could have otherwise been right.  But things fail usually from cracks in the core.

Mutuality

All the books I've read, about characters of all sorts...philosophy and history or even fantasies playing out all the what if scenarios don't seem to do much good in offering practical perspective to questions in my own life.  Occasionally I come back to the same big one, "what is happiness and am I there?".  Moments like these I want to ask a reliable fortune teller about everything and forget about it the next day.  When does happiness become a selfish frivolous desire. When is it still a remaining matter of self preservation?  How would I explain this to my daughters in their own pursuit of the same?  I watch my parents sacrifice moments of potential joy for a greater sense of salvation later on.  That is, assuming two people can meet each other half way over time.  That is, the assumption that in time you would find that common ground.   Would the foundation be selfless sacrifice and love?  It takes two, when two is involved.        

The New Normal

There is the sense of belonging to a place, a person, a home that extends beyond our physical existence into our spirit and shadows of our spirit.  Sometimes, the sun that shines brightly highlight the unseen composition of our soul.  What are extensions of our real selves.  Our home.  Our heart.  Emotional composition of our identity.  When the cold wind blows, there is the residual memory of a solid structure that once protected us.  In the new normal, I see myself clearly from my own perspective.  Blindly even.  In the old normal, I refused to see, and was blindly obstinant.  Afraid.  These days, I walk between norms, stepping on shadows.  Always finding myself standing on my own shadow.  When we leave our only normal, we don't completely loose it.  We adapt to a new normal.  To survive, we must learn to walk between spheres while minding the gaps.  I was out seeking only for change.  I did not expect to bargain for metamorphesis.      

Eat Drink Pray Love

my father has spent the last many decades of his life saying that some day, when he achieved a certain amount of something, he would reward his sacrifices by taking that one big trip and experience life for once.  enjoy his life in some big way to compensate for all those minutes, hours, days, years that he had given himself to create something for a greater priority.  a selfless godful way of living. 

there is an old buddhist story.   a man is chased by a tiger.  he runs up to water's edge by a river.  the river is large.  a fallen tree is laying by the riverbed.  he prays to god and ask for an answer and miracle to save his life.  he is eaten by the tiger.  in heaven, he asks god why god didn't help him.  god answers, "i did.  it was up to you in the end to help yourself.  why didn't you use the fallen tree to float across the river?" 

i have arrived at an epiphany.  a half of one thus far.  or perhaps only the beginning of a new chapter.  it's hard for a woman to make right choices.  the world is unforgiving.  perspective of life is an art of life itself.  the goal?  there may not be a goal.  perhaps the art of just aiming right and just savoring every minute.  pray that it is good along the way.  or perhaps being brave, digging and hope for luck.  in any case, hope takes us to the next place.  

the lesson i want to impart onto my girls, what i have learned thus far at this stage in my life....to not give up hope ever.  that you must always live an inspired life.  be driven with your mind but let your heart guide you.  especially if your intention is to find god.  and seek always the good love, not the bad.  if you are lucky, you will find it within your lifetime.  if not, always still give good love and be brave enough to wait for a good love in return.  in the meanwhile, live however best you can and learn about the good and bad.  how else would you know otherwise a good thing when you have it?   

A River Runs Through It

In life, no one teaches us about curve balls. Nothing is completely random and nothing is completely fated. A rock is pushed off the head of a river. Floating downstream by its own physical definition, guided by laws of nature, it moves towards a predetermined destiny. Some call it erosion while others call it refinement of the jagged edges with each mark that life leaves or takes away. Traveling among many like ourselves, we do it to each other...affecting the other's destination. Until a curve ball strikes. An avalanche. A flood. A fire. Propelling us according to new rules. You may succeed in resisting if the right edges remain to hold you down. You could blame it on the curve ball for the seemingly sudden failure. But at an earlier point along our path, the erosion had unwittingly begun. Bonds that should have saved us eroded under neglect. Some may say it was inevitable. Only the rock would know. Our salvation was simple. To love well when we were in the midst of loving.