Random Thoughts

“We rule only because they believe.”

“Consent requires knowledge and understanding.”

“Trust is the framework upon relationships are built.”

“Keep only those who enrich your life with joy and laughter.”

“Your life is the result of the choices you’ve made. If you don’t like your life, make better choices.”

“She was strong. She was fragile. At times she was a child of nine with an adult’s wisdom and a child’s frailties. Other times she was stubborn as a mule. A seductress with a wicked smile and beguiling voice. Too many forgot she was trained to be so. Too many men fell to her boots as she cut them with her tongue. She was everything impossible in one body. She was woman. And she was in pain. She was a child of three, of nine, of twelve, of sixteen, a woman of 22 and later of 32 then 36. Her mind, scattered her rainbows across existence, as shards, some soft, others sharp. She did more than exist. She lived.”

You reap what you sow.

Next week a whole new insanity starts again. Here in Arizona, school starts up again. It’s a level of busyness that’s welcomed. I’ve had the kids take Karate classes this summer. It kept a nice routine going. Even had the in-laws came and stay for a week. Things are okay. It’s been a good summer.

I’m struggling again but I wonder how much is grief from old wounds, how much of it is just me? My mom’s birthday is on the 9th. I don’t remember a single day of it after she died. It’s a forgotten day. From July 11th to Aug 9th, almost always forgotten. The tail end of June is really rough for me. I still don’t want to look too hard into why. But the body knows, the body remembers.

How do I overcome these challenges?

I’ve been reading over old conversations with Dreamwalker and it’s very rough reading, seeing the villain really was me. I’ve not deleted one jot of his words and yet they stand in black and white testament to well a train wreck of hell. I can only take about 15 minutes of reading before I have to close it and I want to cry but I’m dry. It just hurts.

All is not lost. I can still learn the lessons he was teaching. I can still change and grow. I found my old five and ten-year plan he had me do. I half-assed it like nothing else. I was amazed. I need to redo it. I used to do these things for fun as a kid so what the ever living fuck was I thinking handing in that I will never know. It’s hard for me to think right now. I want to plan for the future. I have some goals but I need to do a break down on them, take a deeper look to see if I should keep them as goals.

These last two weeks have been eye-opening. Dreamwalker went silent and I about lost my mind in grief. My strength is nothing but bravado. I smacked up to just how much I’ve lied to myself. Losing his words was like I lost what was keeps me breathing. How can I say that I don’t trust him when I’ve depended on his words, his thoughts to guide my life still? I had never let go.

I have a lot of wants where he is concerned. But what I need is to stop waiting. As much as I want to hear him whisper “Good girl” in my ear, I need to have earned it first. I am unable to solve if he still wants me. I am unable to solve anything of this relationship. The fight was always inside of me, between holding to what I need versus what I am afraid of and my integrity held my feet into the fire until I found a way to run. And I’ve made him a part of me and it’s hard to run away from yourself.

Autumn was right in a way. We do push people away when they make us happy. We always have and we can trace this back into early childhood. But what we did to Dreamwalker was uncalled for and unprecedented in our history. I know I deserve abandonment. I did earn that. It’s a crippling thought that I’ve lost him forever. Even if it’s true, I refuse to let that be his legacy in my life. Through him, because of him, I’ve taken a harder look at who I am and how I act and who I want to be. I am Proud to have known him even for a little bit!

I need Autumn back and I need to be able to stay. I need to find that rhythm that makes the harmony in my life. I need Autumn’s strength and fortitude and I see she needs my empathy, compassion and ability to love. I need my Captain back in the seat so we can sail these waters again.

I’m very, so very hungry…can you feed me? Pretty please?

Think back to all the plates of spaghetti you’ve eaten in your life. Remember the ones that were really filling and then the plates that were just ho-hum. Sex is just like eating spaghetti. It’s filling and tastes delicious and you want more of it.

Some chefs can only dish out the same for every person. Endless rounds of just pasta and sauce and leave you craving garlic and meatballs. Some chefs get fancy and sprinkle on the parmesan cheese and give a side of garlic bread. A few chefs will ask you how you like your spaghetti and sever up exactly what you asked for. And fewer still, will ask you to take a chance as they blindfold your eyes and feed you.

So, how do you like your spaghetti?

What is hope?

As I laid down to sleep a snippet of a thought drifted in. Hope was a flower. And then I fell into dreams. I named a flower hope and watched it bloom and then wilt before my eyes. It brought forth no seeds and thus died. How could this be hope if hope can die?

As I watched the wilted flower, it was turned into the earth to become the rot that nourished a different flower. This one bloomed even bigger and brighter. I saw that there were other flowers around that wilted and died. But this one bloomed and seeded the ground.

In dying it became like the rot before it, nourishment for the next generation of flowers awaiting their chance to bloom and hopefully seed. From its seeds, stronger flowers grew and bloomed. Some seeded and others did not. All in their time became the rot that nourished the roots of the next generation.

This is hope. It lies not in the flower nor in the seed. It lies not in the rot or the ground. It lays in the cycle of life continuing on.

Returning to Buttercup fields

Photo on Best RunningPhoto on Best Running

I have always loved flawed human beings.
Their frailties hide their strengths.

I was not raised in a home where love was a vital force nor was it strong enough to be felt. I’m not sure where I developed my understanding of love. I do remember reading one Chick track..the one called “Somebody loves me” and I burst into tears the first time I read it. The second time made me angry and the third time, there was a sad wistfulness that the child had finally experienced the emotion of love even though they were never shown it.

That track has stayed with me. It’s weird as actual love wasn’t shown at all anywhere in it. It’s left a special sore spot for me. Maybe that was the subtle point of the propaganda, to expect no human being can love. It’s hooey. I can love. But more to the point, I can act on that love. I just have to be aware that I too am a flawed human being.

In my own life, I never realized my story of the buttercup field was a story of untold pain what as I child I didn’t know what to do with. It was something silly that was brushed off but at the core, I was horrified that my love caused hurts, even if it was unintentional. That love could cause pain flew in direct opposition to everything I believed then and in many ways since. In that I rejected love can indeed cause pain, it left me with the impossible situation; of how can it be love when it causes pain to others. Is it necessary for me to let go of the rigid definition of love or shall I simply blame it on operator error? Either answer does not matter. Nothing would change with either one.

I have to forgive myself of my own self-convicted sin of over-picking the buttercups. I learned that lesson and never over-picked any plant again. I also have to forgive myself for being afraid to love because in the course of love I may hurt the one I love. This is the lesson of love I failed to learn as a child. Love is strong enough to bridge the gaps, to make whole that what was torn and broken.