No Direction Known

Driving through the fog of other people's lives, with one eye on the road that leads to your own, is hazardous. Sometimes, I tell myself it can't be helped, these unexpected detours. Other times, it occurs to me that it is a choice I'm making, whether to bear to the right or to the left at the fork splitting the lane up ahead.
But mostly, I navigate by instinct, gathering readings from satellite positions in my heart, my gut, my head, as they draw the map that tells me where I need to go, reason be damned.
It won't always be like this.
I wonder if I'll miss it, when that time comes.
______________
It's very early in the morning, and there is a chill. Outside my window, a cloud has settled itself loosely around the old, shrugging shoulders of the mountains. Thick, soft, in wispy shades of gray, it hovers protectively, holding in the darkness of the night, keeping out the prying eyes, affording a sanctum. A well-earned rest.
I can't see anything beyond three feet in front of me, but I can hear everything, in velvet undertones of the deep quiet. I know it's out there. I can feel it, all around me, farther than my eyes could ever see, on even the clearest of days. And so I do see it, then, in my mind's eye, the indelible images. The pure, unspoiled beauty. Forever wild. The good earth.
Soon, the cloud will begin to move, lifting itself carefully in perfect cadence with the rising of the sun, the proper birth of morning. As it floats, in a graceful, fluid shifting to the south, ever higher in the sky, it will leave behind generous traces of cool, cleansing dew on everything it touches. A fine film of moisture that will dance and glisten in the first light of day, before burning off completely in the final heat of it.
By the time this happens, I will be gone, twisting and winding my way down the mountain roads; just me and the life that is finally my own.
______________
It won't always be like this.
It may not ever be like that.
I wonder if I'll miss it, if it never comes.

Dawned: to begin to be perceived or understood.

Borne: held within the mind or emotions.

You should listen to your heart, and not the voices in your head.~ Matt Groening

Let your tears come. Let them water your soul.~ Eileen Mayhe

where is the deepest secret nobody knows(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) ~ ee cummings

We won’t mention yesterday:

Sometimes it amazes me how one person can claim to love another and not say one word to even show they remember it is your and his wedding anniversary. Two entire years and most of the time I have dreaded it. So enough about that day.

http://www.10000reasons.org/
You must check out this web site It's hilarious, disturbing, and oh-so-telling all at once. Paris Hilton has retained the dubious honor of being the #1 reason our collective sky is falling for weeks now, and if you think about it, there is probably more truth and insight to be found in that fact than we're capable of facing up to. Surely you can think of one or two to contribute to the list. I'm wondering if 10,000 reasons is, in fact, enough.

I read back through these "pages" every now and then. When I am feeling stuck, or am wondering how exactly time really did fly, or am just flat bored. The thing I find most shocking is how redundant I can be. Over and over. There is a definitive cycle in motion, that has rotated without end, skipping beats now and again, but mostly wobbling on and on like an old hard played broken record.
I want a change.
I need a change.
Even a change for change's sake.
I want to move to Alaska. Or get a new winter coat. Or get in my car and drive for endless, countless miles with my cell phone dark and dead in the trunk. Or paint my nails a different shade of pink.
I don't know where to start explaining how the feeling overtakes me to points of distraction.
I feel driven to make a change of some significance; maybe even a bunch of them, all at once. A kaleidoscope full of them, crashing around in a series of rapid fire pretty pictures made up of shiny shards of change.
This is not new. It's 'everything old is new again'. But it's not new.
Something about this needs to be new.
Even if it's just me, figuring out how to be the change I want to live.
In small, stickable steps.

9/11

They hover as a cloud of witnesses above this Nation.
~ Henry Ward Beecher

So many years ago, but yet it only seems like yesterday. I still linger on the thought that we were only there a month before it happened. Sometimes I say to myself what if we had waited another month to go on vacation; what if we had decided to go there instead of the empire state building…..way to many what ifs.

For the Falling Man
I see you again and againtumbling out of the sky,in your slate-grey suit and pressed white shirt.At first I thought you were debrisfrom the explosion, maybe gray plaster wall or fuselage but then I realized that people were leaping.I know who you are, I knowthere's more to you than just this image on the news, this ragdoll plummeting -- I know you were someone's lover, husband, daddy. Last night you read stories to your children, tucked them in, then curled into sleep next to your wife. Perhaps there was small sleepy talk of the future. Then, before your morning coffee had cooled you'd come to this; a choice between fire or falling.How feeble these words, billowingin this aftermath, how ineffectualthis utterance of sorrow. We can see plainly it's hopeless, even as the words trail from our mouths-- but we can't help ourselves -- how I wish we could trade them for something that could really have caught you.

Thursday Thirteen Things

1. Sometimes I wish I were a little kid again, skinned knees are easier to fix than broken hearts.

2. Went camping last weekend, big mistake with lots of fights.

3. Drama still on the homefront, Channon needs $750.00 to fix car, Tina fighting with Michael over INS stuff.

4. Working like a dog this week so that Michele can go on vacation with no worries (wish I could do that).

5. Still stressed over bills.

6. Hubby still waking me up in the middle of the night to complain about my moving – I got tired of it last night and moved to the space room, seems he was confused this morning as to why I was gone (is he stupid or what).

7. No gym for the past two weeks and the fat still keeps on building (why I could be a bridge).

8. Wishing every day that I did not have a husband that owns his own business the stress is just killing me.

9. Carol had a heart attack this last Friday – she is only 46. Makes me worry about myself.

10. New season of shows comes on this month (yeah) I was getting so tired of nothing to watch.

11. I was able to actually rent all of season 2 of Lost, so this weekend will be a lost weekend.

12. Can someone please find the answers to my questions.

13. It scares me this year is almost over (shit I need to do my taxes).

Truth in Advertising

I am having one of those days where my mood and the weather are finding themselves wearing complementary colors, the black of one accented against the dingy gray of the other.
My stomach is tied up in a thousand knots, and my head hurts from hours spent banging it against a quite stout - if only proverbial - brick wall. Paranoia hovers like dense smoke, billowing in acrid, bitter scented waves.
There is no way you could tell it by looking at me, with my quick smile and laughing eyes, handing out good will in eighteen brightly colored shades of cooperation.
But I appear to be deep in the throes of a martyr-without-a-cause phase.
And I hate this about myself more than you will ever know.