Becoming more and more silent. Talking when being talked to. Answering questions. No longer really wanting to offer much. A bit, yes but offering nothing to put me out there.
Kidlings started gymnastics again this morning. Home for lunch and then I went off to class. Class went well? I don't know. Still not feeling the joy. Hope it returns again one day. Doing my best not to feel at all really. Home from class...hung out and played then made dinner. Hotdogs and Kraft dinner. Kids were excited. I make my hotdogs and Kraft dinner in a bit of a gourmet style. Why not eh? Fry up some onions, add chopped up hotdogs, add green beans, baby tomatoes, spices and then add the cooked Kraft dinner to the mix. Kids suggested that since it was such a good meal we should have candles. Why not? It was lovely. Talked about how they were as babies. Showed them a 'trick' as I caught the candle flame in my fist (they know not to try it). Giggled. Had fudge for dessert.
Yes this is boring. Feeling a bit less than inspired. Will stay in tonight. Another Saturday night. I don't want to go out alone again. I've tried. It sucks. Well...it doesn't really suck but I come home and feel unaccomplished and more lonely then when I left.
What I miss most? Someone to do nothing with. But the kids are great. And we had a candle light dinner. And I guess I really don't have much to complain about at all. So be it.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
And She Put on a Happy Face
Incredible really. The ability to carry on. I sit at my desk and answer emails with a 'cheers' and 'thank you' as tears roll down my face. I get up, wash my face and meet with new clients on the stage and provide advice, encouragement and tell them all that I'm looking forward to their events. And I am. I love the people who enter my theatre. Theatre of the absurd. All the while I know I should be counting my blessings. I have a good job. Am in relative good health. My children are brilliant, kind and wise. So why the tears? Damned if I know. Kinda feel like a magazine subscription that has not been renewed. Kinda feel discarded. Kinda feel as worthwhile as a dried up glue stick. Kinda feel like I wish I didn't feel anymore. But this is just maudlin.
My dad broke his ankle. He was walking and misjudged a step. Innocuous eh? But weeks before he had been complaining about his medication. It made him dizzy. Not himself. I remember thinking 'what will it take before his doctors take notice? Will he need to pass out on the street?' I got a phone call last month to say that he had passed out on a sidewalk while watching a parade. His medication was not changed even though the doctor at emergency told him he should. His regular doctor just lessened his dosage. Now he 'misjudged' a step and is in a cast for 6 weeks.
I visited friends last week. Their cat had liver disease. The cat came up to me and actually told me that it knew it was going to die. As I looked at it I knew and I knew what it was telling me. He died. Another spirit set free.
My pending divorce is still pending. Even when it finally arrives I have come to realize that I will always be stuck with Xman. The father of my children. The connection, for 'better or for worse,' will be there until 'death do us part.'
A person whom I trusted, more than Xman really, to not bring me pain, has through no fault of their own really. Why the trust? I dunno. Because I felt they understood how fragile I was. How insecure. That I needed to grasp onto things beautiful with all my might because of the ugliness surrounding me. I was asked once how it was that I could seemingly make the best out of any situation? The answer? Because the alternative was unthinkable. Too dark. I wish I could feel anger but I can't...except at myself. I am my own worst enemy. I feel toxic. Don't come too close. You'll only get hurt.
Why am I writing this? To try and get some of this out. I won't talk to you about this. I won't trust in you enough to share. When you meet me on the street I may even be singing as I skip along. A light little ditty with a smile on my face.
My dad broke his ankle. He was walking and misjudged a step. Innocuous eh? But weeks before he had been complaining about his medication. It made him dizzy. Not himself. I remember thinking 'what will it take before his doctors take notice? Will he need to pass out on the street?' I got a phone call last month to say that he had passed out on a sidewalk while watching a parade. His medication was not changed even though the doctor at emergency told him he should. His regular doctor just lessened his dosage. Now he 'misjudged' a step and is in a cast for 6 weeks.
I visited friends last week. Their cat had liver disease. The cat came up to me and actually told me that it knew it was going to die. As I looked at it I knew and I knew what it was telling me. He died. Another spirit set free.
My pending divorce is still pending. Even when it finally arrives I have come to realize that I will always be stuck with Xman. The father of my children. The connection, for 'better or for worse,' will be there until 'death do us part.'
A person whom I trusted, more than Xman really, to not bring me pain, has through no fault of their own really. Why the trust? I dunno. Because I felt they understood how fragile I was. How insecure. That I needed to grasp onto things beautiful with all my might because of the ugliness surrounding me. I was asked once how it was that I could seemingly make the best out of any situation? The answer? Because the alternative was unthinkable. Too dark. I wish I could feel anger but I can't...except at myself. I am my own worst enemy. I feel toxic. Don't come too close. You'll only get hurt.
Why am I writing this? To try and get some of this out. I won't talk to you about this. I won't trust in you enough to share. When you meet me on the street I may even be singing as I skip along. A light little ditty with a smile on my face.
Monday, September 07, 2009
The Best and the Worst (or so I'm told)
Waiting for Xman to return the kidz. After the drama prior to this weekend he is going to drop them off himself and no longer demanding that I pick the kidz up at '5pm sharp.' Sigh. I work in theatre. I understand and get drama. I also realize how fake it is. I work behind the curtain and see the wizard bare on a daily basis.
Today I managed to can 12 jars of peaches and cleaned the upstairs bathroom. Yay for me. I spoke to my mother briefly on the phone but other than that I have been devoid of human contact except for the radio -- CBC of course. Haven't spent a day listening to the radio in ages. It's like I've been reunited with an old friend.
I'll be going to an Aikido seminar in Montreal next weekend. My mother is flying up on Thursday to watch the wee ones for me. I am no longer invited to travel with the group from my centre. Long story. Another drama. I'm so so so very tired of drama. I am not exactly sure where it is that I'll be staying but I'll figure something out. I may just end up driving there and back each day. Why not. Seems that I have an innate ability to, when I'm being myself, bring out the very best in folk and the very worst. I guess it's a talent? A gift?
Today I managed to can 12 jars of peaches and cleaned the upstairs bathroom. Yay for me. I spoke to my mother briefly on the phone but other than that I have been devoid of human contact except for the radio -- CBC of course. Haven't spent a day listening to the radio in ages. It's like I've been reunited with an old friend.
I'll be going to an Aikido seminar in Montreal next weekend. My mother is flying up on Thursday to watch the wee ones for me. I am no longer invited to travel with the group from my centre. Long story. Another drama. I'm so so so very tired of drama. I am not exactly sure where it is that I'll be staying but I'll figure something out. I may just end up driving there and back each day. Why not. Seems that I have an innate ability to, when I'm being myself, bring out the very best in folk and the very worst. I guess it's a talent? A gift?
I'm really not sure what I should be doing differently. I'm told to stop resisting. I'm told to not ever give 100% of myself. I should always hold something back. I'm told I'm greedy. I'm told I give too much. I'm told I try too hard. I'm told I don't try hard enough. I'm told I'm intelligent. I'm told I'm obtuse. I'm told I'm a good person. I'm told that I should work at becoming better. I'm told that I dictate right after I'm told exactly what to do. I'm told I write well. I'm told that words are worthless. I'm told that my intentions are obvious (even when I have no idea what it is that I am intending). I'm told that I'm strong enough to deal with all of this on my own and by myself. I'm told to make an effort to bring other people into my life. I'm told to move forward. I'm told to become still. I'm told to control myself. I'm told to let go.
I've had enough of being told. Is it too much to have y'all listen? Just for a moment?
I'm telling ya.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Credit Where Credit is Due
So. Well then.
It's been a crazy couple of weeks fer sure. Work is great. Doing two jobs makes the days fly by. I'm getting a handle on the invoices and the contracts. Had 3 large shows last week. An East Indian dance troupe from Toronto came in. Lovely people. I got to be a 'tech' and fixed the electrical on a couple chandeliers. It wasn't hard but being the only one with the 'know how' on site to do it felt good. When I went in the next morning there was a case of beer and a gold leaf on my desk left in appreciation. Nice that some touring folk still follow the 'old school' ways.
The second show was a Mongolian Jazz group made up of some musicians from Mongolia mixed with Canadian jazz musicians who were touring Canada. The sound was beautiful and haunting. I love the sound of the urhu (2 string cello type instrument) and the male throat singing was incredible. I put on my chauffeur hat and whisked one of the musicians off to get food for the troupe after sound check. We had only 40 minutes but I got him to the shwarma shop and back in less than 1/2 hour.
The third show was a Christian rock worship event. It was a huge band but sound check went well and but for a small incident involving a faith leader stalker, all was good.
A couple management meetings rounded off any spare time I might have had.
Now it's the weekend and I'm kidless as the wee ones are with Xman. No shows in the theatre so I actually have the weekend off. I went to a band last night. What a difference a good sound engineer makes. I saw this same band the week before and the sound was horrible. Last night, however, the band was in excellent form and the sound was excellent. I went alone and enjoyed myself. It was a bit weird. The person who I had gone to events like this for the past year was there...also on his own. Not sure how I feel about things. I miss being able to babble on with this person but in a weird way, even when I was with him I was essentially alone. Being with him, however, kept other folk away. As it was, I was chatted up by a few other folk last night but really had no interest in them or what they were doing or who they were. It will be quite a while I think before I am ready to let anyone else behind the curtain.
Funny how one fella thought it was necessary to tell me that I shouldn't be there alone and that spending more than 10 min per day alone was a sign of a sick mind. He said this after I politely answered his questions but offered nothing more. When folk don't get what they want it seems they feel a need to immediately go on the attack and find fault. Ok. I'm in the wrong. I'll accept that. I've been in the wrong pretty much all my life. I'm used to it really. I will take full responsibility for you not being able to get from me what you want. Feel better now? Now just leave me alone and walk away knowing that you are the better person and although you made an effort to save/reform/rescue me from myself you can know in your heart and mind that I am too far gone and I will not be grabbing that life buoy of salvation that you have gallantly chucked at my head. If I drown it will not be your fault and if I manage to swim to shore feel free to take the credit.
It's been a crazy couple of weeks fer sure. Work is great. Doing two jobs makes the days fly by. I'm getting a handle on the invoices and the contracts. Had 3 large shows last week. An East Indian dance troupe from Toronto came in. Lovely people. I got to be a 'tech' and fixed the electrical on a couple chandeliers. It wasn't hard but being the only one with the 'know how' on site to do it felt good. When I went in the next morning there was a case of beer and a gold leaf on my desk left in appreciation. Nice that some touring folk still follow the 'old school' ways.
The second show was a Mongolian Jazz group made up of some musicians from Mongolia mixed with Canadian jazz musicians who were touring Canada. The sound was beautiful and haunting. I love the sound of the urhu (2 string cello type instrument) and the male throat singing was incredible. I put on my chauffeur hat and whisked one of the musicians off to get food for the troupe after sound check. We had only 40 minutes but I got him to the shwarma shop and back in less than 1/2 hour.
The third show was a Christian rock worship event. It was a huge band but sound check went well and but for a small incident involving a faith leader stalker, all was good.
A couple management meetings rounded off any spare time I might have had.
Now it's the weekend and I'm kidless as the wee ones are with Xman. No shows in the theatre so I actually have the weekend off. I went to a band last night. What a difference a good sound engineer makes. I saw this same band the week before and the sound was horrible. Last night, however, the band was in excellent form and the sound was excellent. I went alone and enjoyed myself. It was a bit weird. The person who I had gone to events like this for the past year was there...also on his own. Not sure how I feel about things. I miss being able to babble on with this person but in a weird way, even when I was with him I was essentially alone. Being with him, however, kept other folk away. As it was, I was chatted up by a few other folk last night but really had no interest in them or what they were doing or who they were. It will be quite a while I think before I am ready to let anyone else behind the curtain.
Funny how one fella thought it was necessary to tell me that I shouldn't be there alone and that spending more than 10 min per day alone was a sign of a sick mind. He said this after I politely answered his questions but offered nothing more. When folk don't get what they want it seems they feel a need to immediately go on the attack and find fault. Ok. I'm in the wrong. I'll accept that. I've been in the wrong pretty much all my life. I'm used to it really. I will take full responsibility for you not being able to get from me what you want. Feel better now? Now just leave me alone and walk away knowing that you are the better person and although you made an effort to save/reform/rescue me from myself you can know in your heart and mind that I am too far gone and I will not be grabbing that life buoy of salvation that you have gallantly chucked at my head. If I drown it will not be your fault and if I manage to swim to shore feel free to take the credit.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
In Trust
Why do people lie?
It is in my nature to trust folk. I don’t want to distrust folk. Even after being lied to time and time again I hold out that possibility that this time they are telling the truth. I assume that instead of lying there are instead misunderstandings. Miscommunications. (Please note that I am not referring to you…as far as I can tell, you have not lied to me and in this my gut agrees).
I try to trust myself and my gut instincts (some call it Ki). But when my gut activates my spidy senses I tend to feel that I am wrong. In the wrong. I tell myself that I must be wrong. And then, once again, I am put in the position of the goat. By not trusting myself I put myself in that position. I know this. Yet I want to trust in others before myself. Not hold anything back. But I need to protect myself and only I can do that. It’s a perverse game. A form of violence.
Yes, the saying goes ‘trust must be earned.’ Why? Why must trust be so fleeting. What many do day to day is, as far as I can see, based on trust. Deals are created and work when folk trust each other. You need, however, to add ‘carrots’ – a sort of ‘you can trust this person cuz if they back down they will lose $$ so therefore you are safe’ kind of thing. Trust is shored up. But that’s not real trust is it? Can trust really be bought and sold? Is it a commodity? The cynic in me states that ‘one can trust folk to act as they act in accordance with human nature.’ But shouldn’t it be human nature to desire harmony?
But then again, as I’ve already stated, I don’t trust myself. Perhaps that’s the first step. Trusting in myself. I've been called greedy. Yes. Greedy for a reflection that I could trust. Using that reflection as a form of self validation. I sincerely wish that I had come to this point sooner. Perhaps I wouldn’t have pushed some folk away. But then again, without having these folk as a mirror I am now forced to look inward. This is actually the hardest thing I have ever done. Going inside. Beyond the memories and the stories and the (re)creations. Facing and seeing myself. Warts and all. I need to allow myself to see through my own eyes.
It is in my nature to trust folk. I don’t want to distrust folk. Even after being lied to time and time again I hold out that possibility that this time they are telling the truth. I assume that instead of lying there are instead misunderstandings. Miscommunications. (Please note that I am not referring to you…as far as I can tell, you have not lied to me and in this my gut agrees).
I try to trust myself and my gut instincts (some call it Ki). But when my gut activates my spidy senses I tend to feel that I am wrong. In the wrong. I tell myself that I must be wrong. And then, once again, I am put in the position of the goat. By not trusting myself I put myself in that position. I know this. Yet I want to trust in others before myself. Not hold anything back. But I need to protect myself and only I can do that. It’s a perverse game. A form of violence.
Yes, the saying goes ‘trust must be earned.’ Why? Why must trust be so fleeting. What many do day to day is, as far as I can see, based on trust. Deals are created and work when folk trust each other. You need, however, to add ‘carrots’ – a sort of ‘you can trust this person cuz if they back down they will lose $$ so therefore you are safe’ kind of thing. Trust is shored up. But that’s not real trust is it? Can trust really be bought and sold? Is it a commodity? The cynic in me states that ‘one can trust folk to act as they act in accordance with human nature.’ But shouldn’t it be human nature to desire harmony?
But then again, as I’ve already stated, I don’t trust myself. Perhaps that’s the first step. Trusting in myself. I've been called greedy. Yes. Greedy for a reflection that I could trust. Using that reflection as a form of self validation. I sincerely wish that I had come to this point sooner. Perhaps I wouldn’t have pushed some folk away. But then again, without having these folk as a mirror I am now forced to look inward. This is actually the hardest thing I have ever done. Going inside. Beyond the memories and the stories and the (re)creations. Facing and seeing myself. Warts and all. I need to allow myself to see through my own eyes.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Cuz Only You Would 'Get' This
My boss was chosen today for jury duty today -- Andrew Stevenson murder case -- meaning he'll be off for 6 to 8 weeks. I get two jobs now. Human resources doesn't think that this means I should have a raise at all as it falls under 'other duties as may be required' in my job description. At least there will be at least one sane and level headed juror.
The new electrical panel in the booth (same place as the old one) doesn't pass inspection cuz our sound board is in front of it. Against code (though it's been this way for over 15 years). I now have to shop for and purchase a small digital console 'in my spare time' at work and strip the fucking booth again. At least we'll go digital.
Had to fire a sound tech on Sunday. Did it gently...encouraged him to go out and learn his craft but that he wasn't 'there yet' in terms of working in our space. He cried. I did a show. At least this show went well.
Just ran out of propane for barbecue and can't go out cuz the meat man is scheduled to arrive between 5pm and 9pm so I'm nuking my chicken (too hot for a stove). At least I have chicken (and a good excuse to stay in).
The score for the piece that the bride to be for the wedding I'm playing at next month wants to walk down the aisle to is crap. Starts well but gets very chunky. I'll be rewriting sections. At least I have a bit more than a month to learn it.
What I miss most? Sending stuff like this to a person who I know 'gets it.'
The new electrical panel in the booth (same place as the old one) doesn't pass inspection cuz our sound board is in front of it. Against code (though it's been this way for over 15 years). I now have to shop for and purchase a small digital console 'in my spare time' at work and strip the fucking booth again. At least we'll go digital.
Had to fire a sound tech on Sunday. Did it gently...encouraged him to go out and learn his craft but that he wasn't 'there yet' in terms of working in our space. He cried. I did a show. At least this show went well.
Just ran out of propane for barbecue and can't go out cuz the meat man is scheduled to arrive between 5pm and 9pm so I'm nuking my chicken (too hot for a stove). At least I have chicken (and a good excuse to stay in).
The score for the piece that the bride to be for the wedding I'm playing at next month wants to walk down the aisle to is crap. Starts well but gets very chunky. I'll be rewriting sections. At least I have a bit more than a month to learn it.
What I miss most? Sending stuff like this to a person who I know 'gets it.'
Sunday, August 16, 2009
What a Difference a Year Makes
So I ask myself. Have I been wasting my time this past year? The answer lies somewhere between and outside of 'yes' and 'no'. After Xman left I was crushed. Vulnerable. Insecure. Taking care of two wee ones day to day and finding the approach of each new day to be difficult to say the least. Last summer (around August) I met someone with whom I could talk about my feelings and as we chatted (primarily through email) I found myself thinking less about Xman and more about the possibilities of life. I started going out with this person for coffee. Then we began attending music events. To go out and be as an individual person--not a mom, soon to be divorcee etc.--was wonderful. I knew from the onset that this person I was hanging out with was not 'the one' yet I enjoyed the company. My feelings turned to love. Slowly. Tentatively. As I felt my ability to trust return I eagerly awaited the arrival of each new email in my inbox. It was not all good. His issues/wants/needs and my issues/wants/needs would clash. Mutual insecurities and past betrayals haunted us. I was helped by him though. And I was hurt by him. Differing views on what constituted friendship made the whole thing lopsided. I got to know him well. I don't believe the same can be said for his knowing me. At least his actions/words etc. did not reveal any empathic understanding of who I was. Only of who he thought I was. That said, this past year was 'gotten through.' Now, once again in August, I find myself with and without that person with whom I had gained some solace. I am still with him because I do know him. We, because of what we are involved with, will out of necessity see each other each week. I am without him because any other communication besides that which will occur when we must see each other is over. My girlfriends told me that if I hung out and went out with him I would not be approached by any other possible suitor. That was ok by me. I was enjoying the moment and not all that interested in the future. He was recently begun going out again solo. Ladies who had kept their distance from him because of me are now making themselves known to him. I hope he will find what he is looking for. I guess when push comes to shove I really wanted him to see me and know me. To act as a true reflection of who I was because I found it very difficult to see myself. Now I see that the reflection he presented to me was not real. For whatever reason he could not/would not see me for who I was--for who I am. It was for that reflection that I pushed. Funny that the basis of our relationship occurred through email and text. Funny that he would tell me that he wouldn't speak of these things to me face to face. Funny that I have always loved and used words in text to express myself. Funny that from the onset he tried to instill in me a sense that words were basically useless in terms of gaining a true understanding. The glorious contradictions of life. I have a file in his name in my email account that holds all of our correspondence throughout the entire year. A year's worth of correspondence. Exploration. Wrath. Humour. Exasperation. Wit. Love. Like other memories, I'll keep it stored away. Not to dwell but to cherish. Bitter sweet. All in all, it was a pretty good year.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
I Hugged My Kids
Barbecued honey glazed and garlic chicken with a wee bit of Thai chili paste alongside steamed basmati rice and barbecued broccoli gently sprinkled with soy sauce. Belly is full.
No sitter tonight. No class tonight. Good to take a break. Must be the way it's supposed to be.
Had a scary moment on the phone with Xman. Seems that he got it in his head that if he takes joint custody of the children he won't have to pay support. He screamed and yelled and I hung up the phone. He spoke to his lawyer who told him that he was wrong. Hmmmm....I wonder. Will he still make an effort to see the kids more often now that he knows his financial responsibilities will remain the same? Time will tell. I won't be holding my breath.
It was good that this happened in a weird and perverse life lesson sort of way. I immediately reverted to my good ol' fight/flight instinct. I felt that my back was to a wall and my children were behind me holding on to a leg each. I freaked out. I was terrified. Terrified that he might get away with it. Terrified for the kids. They need/want to spend time with him but he has a whole lot of fence mending to do before they would be in any way shape or form ready to spend half of their time with them.
To be fair, I asked them. They consider home to be with me. They don't want it disrupted. Ok. For now I will stay the course.
As it stands, the kidlings will be off to stay with him on Saturday for 2 weeks -- part of their summer vacation avec daddy. I will miss them (once again...'miss' is a totally inadequate word) but we shall all get through this. I just might go out and discover some new friends? Who knows. At least I know that my fight/flight, even when triggered, won't last long. A short time after the phone call, a coolness came over me and I started to cover my bases. Contacted my lawyer. Made arrangements for additional child support (in case XMan were to pull out now completely). Hugged my kids. Hugged my kids. Hugged my kids.
No sitter tonight. No class tonight. Good to take a break. Must be the way it's supposed to be.
Had a scary moment on the phone with Xman. Seems that he got it in his head that if he takes joint custody of the children he won't have to pay support. He screamed and yelled and I hung up the phone. He spoke to his lawyer who told him that he was wrong. Hmmmm....I wonder. Will he still make an effort to see the kids more often now that he knows his financial responsibilities will remain the same? Time will tell. I won't be holding my breath.
It was good that this happened in a weird and perverse life lesson sort of way. I immediately reverted to my good ol' fight/flight instinct. I felt that my back was to a wall and my children were behind me holding on to a leg each. I freaked out. I was terrified. Terrified that he might get away with it. Terrified for the kids. They need/want to spend time with him but he has a whole lot of fence mending to do before they would be in any way shape or form ready to spend half of their time with them.
To be fair, I asked them. They consider home to be with me. They don't want it disrupted. Ok. For now I will stay the course.
As it stands, the kidlings will be off to stay with him on Saturday for 2 weeks -- part of their summer vacation avec daddy. I will miss them (once again...'miss' is a totally inadequate word) but we shall all get through this. I just might go out and discover some new friends? Who knows. At least I know that my fight/flight, even when triggered, won't last long. A short time after the phone call, a coolness came over me and I started to cover my bases. Contacted my lawyer. Made arrangements for additional child support (in case XMan were to pull out now completely). Hugged my kids. Hugged my kids. Hugged my kids.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Just Getting Some Words Out
Week off with kidlings. Just hanging out. This and that. That and this. Nice. Haven't slowed down and just allowed myself to 'be' in a very long time. Kidlings will be off at their dad's next week. It'll be hard but . . . we shall persevere.
Xman wants to discuss something in person with me this week. Ok. Not really wanting to face whatever it is but I guess it's necessary. It'll have to do with access or $$. Sigh. I have to remember to not fall into the trap that this is somehow my fault. Guess I'll let him know that he can drop by tonight after the kidlings are in bed.
Had a dream about the King of Wands upside down. A friend who wants to be solitary. Well then.
It hailed yesterday. Strange. Large chunks of ice pelted down.
Practice is going well. Was told that I was beginning to become a 'pain in the ass.' Nice to hear those words again. I'm physically stronger then ever before. Long, hard, sweaty practice last night and I've woken up with nothing sore. Nice.
Playing guitar again. Doing a wedding end of September. Working on getting pieces under my fingers again. Opening up the neural pathways and building up the strength so that the music can come out. Approaching music in a different way. Hard to explain. Letting the sound reveal itself.
For the rest of the day? Not sure. Will see what unfolds.
Xman wants to discuss something in person with me this week. Ok. Not really wanting to face whatever it is but I guess it's necessary. It'll have to do with access or $$. Sigh. I have to remember to not fall into the trap that this is somehow my fault. Guess I'll let him know that he can drop by tonight after the kidlings are in bed.
Had a dream about the King of Wands upside down. A friend who wants to be solitary. Well then.
It hailed yesterday. Strange. Large chunks of ice pelted down.
Practice is going well. Was told that I was beginning to become a 'pain in the ass.' Nice to hear those words again. I'm physically stronger then ever before. Long, hard, sweaty practice last night and I've woken up with nothing sore. Nice.
Playing guitar again. Doing a wedding end of September. Working on getting pieces under my fingers again. Opening up the neural pathways and building up the strength so that the music can come out. Approaching music in a different way. Hard to explain. Letting the sound reveal itself.
For the rest of the day? Not sure. Will see what unfolds.
Monday, August 03, 2009
Wanted?
Kidz home. Sanity returns? Training for eventual empty nest syndrome.
Quotes from the boy:
"I don't mean to be mean but I don't really like daddy much. He didn't have much time for us. He worked and when he was home he spent most of his time on his laptop. We were told to go to our room and watch tv. His girlfriend is nice but she gets headaches everyday and needs her quiet time."
Talked to him that it was ok to express his feelings and no he wasn't being mean or bad. That he had every right to feel the way he was feeling. I asked if he tried to talk to his dad about how he was feeling. He said no. I said it was ok to talk to his dad about these things too. It might help?
"Mommy, why can't you just go out and find us a new daddy...one that can live here with us?"
This one threw me. I've been trying to keep my 'personal' life (not much of one to tell the truth but . . . ) personal. I've not wanted to bring anyone into the kidz lives right now. I've really not wanted to bring anyone deeply into my life right now. Hmmm.... Guess I should put an ad in a local?
"Wanted:
Single but difficult mom seeking man to share her life and take on the responsibility of aiding in the care and growth of 2 exceptional children. Must be low maintenance and not become liken to a '3rd child.' (Been there....done that). Should be tender and affectionate yet able to throw her hard. Must be independent and self sufficient. Humour is an asset."
Quotes from the boy:
"I don't mean to be mean but I don't really like daddy much. He didn't have much time for us. He worked and when he was home he spent most of his time on his laptop. We were told to go to our room and watch tv. His girlfriend is nice but she gets headaches everyday and needs her quiet time."
Talked to him that it was ok to express his feelings and no he wasn't being mean or bad. That he had every right to feel the way he was feeling. I asked if he tried to talk to his dad about how he was feeling. He said no. I said it was ok to talk to his dad about these things too. It might help?
"Mommy, why can't you just go out and find us a new daddy...one that can live here with us?"
This one threw me. I've been trying to keep my 'personal' life (not much of one to tell the truth but . . . ) personal. I've not wanted to bring anyone into the kidz lives right now. I've really not wanted to bring anyone deeply into my life right now. Hmmm.... Guess I should put an ad in a local?
"Wanted:
Single but difficult mom seeking man to share her life and take on the responsibility of aiding in the care and growth of 2 exceptional children. Must be low maintenance and not become liken to a '3rd child.' (Been there....done that). Should be tender and affectionate yet able to throw her hard. Must be independent and self sufficient. Humour is an asset."
Friday, July 31, 2009
Forever And A Day
So tomorrow, August 1st, will be my 10 year wedding anniversary. Well, it would be if I were still married. Technically I am still married but, other than the paperwork and some other niggling details yet to be sorted, that particular 'forever' commitment ended two years ago.
Funny how 'forever' has become, like most things, a disposable commodity like machines with plastic parts, paper napkins and items bearing 'made in China' stamps. Nevertheless, folk still buy into the dream of forever. Buyer beware. Like the Highlander they want to believe that their love will last throughout all of time. Forever love. But if we take time to be, essentially, a creation or social construct or mass hallucination or even if we merely take it as a point of reference, a belief in forever is as much a fantasy as believing that there is a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
A friend told me the other day that a rainbow, when seen from space, is actually a circle. No beginning. No end. That's actually a 'forever' that I can take stock in and believe. Thus, if something begins 'out of the blue' chances are, it's going to end. Yes, some marriages actually make it to the 'until death do us part' bit but, there's still an ending. Are some spirits 'reborn' and meet somewhere 'in time' again and again throughout what we try to perceive as eternity? Perhaps.
I believe that I have been blessed with meeting at least one such being during my life thus far (and no, it wasn't the man I married). How do I know? As much as this person told me that I had no idea what they were about or who they were and that I knew nothing about them, I had already recognized their essential self. I knew them despite the affectations, scars and defensive posturing we are all guilty of embodying as we deal with the day to day crap that gets thrown at us time and time again. It's because of this recognition that I began to question notions of forever in the first place. That said, being only a foolish and silly human, notions of eternity and infinity are too large for my wee brain to comprehend -- thus the need to create 'time' as a reference point in the first place. Order out of a perceived chaos as it were.
Regardless, at this particular point/moment in time I feel like shit. I waver between demoralized abject despair and not wanting to care about anything anymore. (Phil Collins' lyrics scream through my head along with Max Webster's 'Bust the Busters.') Each is incredibly self indulgent but since I neither have a pint of rocky road ice cream in my freezer nor some homegrown organic to smoke I should be allowed instead a bit of time to wallow in self pity. Besides, at least I know this feeling won't last forever.
And tomorrow is just another day.
Funny how 'forever' has become, like most things, a disposable commodity like machines with plastic parts, paper napkins and items bearing 'made in China' stamps. Nevertheless, folk still buy into the dream of forever. Buyer beware. Like the Highlander they want to believe that their love will last throughout all of time. Forever love. But if we take time to be, essentially, a creation or social construct or mass hallucination or even if we merely take it as a point of reference, a belief in forever is as much a fantasy as believing that there is a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
A friend told me the other day that a rainbow, when seen from space, is actually a circle. No beginning. No end. That's actually a 'forever' that I can take stock in and believe. Thus, if something begins 'out of the blue' chances are, it's going to end. Yes, some marriages actually make it to the 'until death do us part' bit but, there's still an ending. Are some spirits 'reborn' and meet somewhere 'in time' again and again throughout what we try to perceive as eternity? Perhaps.
I believe that I have been blessed with meeting at least one such being during my life thus far (and no, it wasn't the man I married). How do I know? As much as this person told me that I had no idea what they were about or who they were and that I knew nothing about them, I had already recognized their essential self. I knew them despite the affectations, scars and defensive posturing we are all guilty of embodying as we deal with the day to day crap that gets thrown at us time and time again. It's because of this recognition that I began to question notions of forever in the first place. That said, being only a foolish and silly human, notions of eternity and infinity are too large for my wee brain to comprehend -- thus the need to create 'time' as a reference point in the first place. Order out of a perceived chaos as it were.
Regardless, at this particular point/moment in time I feel like shit. I waver between demoralized abject despair and not wanting to care about anything anymore. (Phil Collins' lyrics scream through my head along with Max Webster's 'Bust the Busters.') Each is incredibly self indulgent but since I neither have a pint of rocky road ice cream in my freezer nor some homegrown organic to smoke I should be allowed instead a bit of time to wallow in self pity. Besides, at least I know this feeling won't last forever.
And tomorrow is just another day.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Vanishment
I disappeared the other day. It was something that I wanted. What I asked for. The result, however, was unexpected. I arrived at work on Thursday and checked my bank account. It was payday. I'm never quite sure how much my end of month pay is because I never bother to calculate my overtime in advance. I like to keep the extra dosh as a surprise. I was surprised. No pay had been deposited. I called payroll. The woman who answered the phone asked me to hold the line. When she returned to speak with me she told me she had no idea what happened. She had to check with her supervisor. I hung up and waited. Well. I carried on doing my job. Kind of. I had a sneaking suspicion. I suspected that something was up beyond my comprehension. I had recently looked up at skies and said 'Bring It!' I've been frustrated. Lonely. Fed up. 'Just Bring It!' Whatever was to be brought I figured I could take. I sent a message to a friend and among other pitiable things I whinged on about, I wrote how I wanted to disappear.
The payroll supervisor got back to me. She didn't really know how it happened but apparently I had been disappeared from the main database. Not only me but my job as well. There are various checks and balances in place at the institution where I work to prevent this from accidentally occurring. Whenever someone is deleted, that name is to automatically go on to other lists so that other folk can verify that that someone is indeed supposed to disappear. It seems that my records had been deleted but that my name hadn't automatically gone to any lists. The payroll folk have no idea how this could have occurred.
No harm no foul. It was only money. They cut me a cheque. Nothing bounced.
Strange tho' that I could disappear so quickly. Strange that the timing of this happened just after I had decided to challenge fate? the gods? universal energy?
The same friend to whom I had written my whinge list suggested that I might now need to be careful of what I ask for. Much like the folk in stories who meet up with a genie I should take care when asking for anything because I just might get it.
I've been thinking about what I would want to ask for. I'm stymied. I may not be satisifed entirely with my current situation but I can't really come up with anything that could make it better. I kind of like the journey and the sense of adventure that is wrapped up in my not knowing what is coming up. I guess I continue to have hope and faith in tomorrow. Hope doth springeth eternal. At the same time, despite my whining, I'm doing ok. The choices I've made in the past that have led to where I am now are ones that I probably wouldn't have made any differently if I had the chance to make them again.
I do believe that I will stop yelling at the sky. At least for a bit.
The payroll supervisor got back to me. She didn't really know how it happened but apparently I had been disappeared from the main database. Not only me but my job as well. There are various checks and balances in place at the institution where I work to prevent this from accidentally occurring. Whenever someone is deleted, that name is to automatically go on to other lists so that other folk can verify that that someone is indeed supposed to disappear. It seems that my records had been deleted but that my name hadn't automatically gone to any lists. The payroll folk have no idea how this could have occurred.
No harm no foul. It was only money. They cut me a cheque. Nothing bounced.
Strange tho' that I could disappear so quickly. Strange that the timing of this happened just after I had decided to challenge fate? the gods? universal energy?
The same friend to whom I had written my whinge list suggested that I might now need to be careful of what I ask for. Much like the folk in stories who meet up with a genie I should take care when asking for anything because I just might get it.
I've been thinking about what I would want to ask for. I'm stymied. I may not be satisifed entirely with my current situation but I can't really come up with anything that could make it better. I kind of like the journey and the sense of adventure that is wrapped up in my not knowing what is coming up. I guess I continue to have hope and faith in tomorrow. Hope doth springeth eternal. At the same time, despite my whining, I'm doing ok. The choices I've made in the past that have led to where I am now are ones that I probably wouldn't have made any differently if I had the chance to make them again.
I do believe that I will stop yelling at the sky. At least for a bit.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Seeing
My girl has a ‘lazy’ eye. There is nothing physically wrong but her strong eye has taken over the responsibility of seeing. Her weaker eye is getting weaker. We have used glasses, eye drops, adhesive patches and the like. It’s been a frustrating process. Invasive. It's been about five years! My daughter is incredibly strong but enough is enough. We went to the eye doc again yesterday and I asked him about possible alternative visual therapies…a wee bit of internet research has revealed the existence of such approaches; the caveat being that the closest practitioner is in Cambridge, ON. The doc, as should have been expected, dismissed the idea right away saying that what we were doing was right and sometimes it just didn’t work. Maybe.
So I got her a pirate patch to wear after school and on weekends over her strong eye instead of the adhesive bandages that cause a rash and hurt her skin when removed. She’s happier with that. Her words after viewing herself in the mirror ‘Oh mommy, I look absolutely ridiculous! I love it.’ I have also started to work with her in terms of relating the images she sees with her weaker eye to her brain. Instead of just letting her ‘carry on’ I’m trying to be a bit more pro active. (While simultaneously attempting to ignore the rising waves of mommy guilt for not trying to do something about this sooner). We are looking at things together and I am asking her to describe for me the details she is seeing (describe the veins of a leaf…what do they do for the leaf…what do they remind one of etc. all in an effort to make her have to consciously see through that eye and interpret the images) I’m thinking that physical therapists don’t just ask folk to walk on the sore leg until it heals but offer techniques to strengthen the leg. I’m trying to work out ways to strengthen the connection between the visual input and her brain. I can’t move to Cambridge (or can I?) but I need to try something new. At least, according to the doc, there is nothing physically wrong with her eye or the optic nerve. I need to try something but the invasive crap feels wrong.
Perhaps I’m too close to this. I have a healthy distrust of doctors so my biases may be blinding me. Our next appointment with the doc is in December. Until then, I'll work with her and wait & see.
So I got her a pirate patch to wear after school and on weekends over her strong eye instead of the adhesive bandages that cause a rash and hurt her skin when removed. She’s happier with that. Her words after viewing herself in the mirror ‘Oh mommy, I look absolutely ridiculous! I love it.’ I have also started to work with her in terms of relating the images she sees with her weaker eye to her brain. Instead of just letting her ‘carry on’ I’m trying to be a bit more pro active. (While simultaneously attempting to ignore the rising waves of mommy guilt for not trying to do something about this sooner). We are looking at things together and I am asking her to describe for me the details she is seeing (describe the veins of a leaf…what do they do for the leaf…what do they remind one of etc. all in an effort to make her have to consciously see through that eye and interpret the images) I’m thinking that physical therapists don’t just ask folk to walk on the sore leg until it heals but offer techniques to strengthen the leg. I’m trying to work out ways to strengthen the connection between the visual input and her brain. I can’t move to Cambridge (or can I?) but I need to try something new. At least, according to the doc, there is nothing physically wrong with her eye or the optic nerve. I need to try something but the invasive crap feels wrong.
Perhaps I’m too close to this. I have a healthy distrust of doctors so my biases may be blinding me. Our next appointment with the doc is in December. Until then, I'll work with her and wait & see.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
A Little Knowledge . . .
New people have entered my life. One has entered slowly yet, simultaneously and contradictorily, the entry was immediate. I just didn't recognize the impact right away. But, at the same time I did. It needs time. Hmmmmm......
Others have been filtering in. A new balance is to be achieved. I feel that everything that is going on around me is right. It's supposed to happen. I don't know why. I'm not sure if I'm really supposed to know why. Maybe why isn't the correct question? I am feeling more centred. Peaceful.
A recent meeting with a postive thinker has provided me with much needed, and free, childcare. A quaker I met today brought me messages of peace as well as information on upcoming meetings. I will not go but it's nice to be asked to the dance. Dads are coming up to me in the playground to talk. The commonality between all? They are all searching. Actively or passively. Searching for answers. Meanings. Understanding.
I've been thinking about knowing. What is knowing? We use our senses...sight, smell, taste, touch and hearing. Then our minds do the requisite calculations and voila...we know something. Doesn't this put the act of thinking right up there with seeing and smelling in terms of sensory observation? If thinking is a sense does this change how the world is perceived?
Certain things are going on in my life that, when I actively attempt to think about them, my understanding/knowledge of them lessons. I know that I can't know these things through thinking. How do I know this? I don't know. But I do know. You know? It's a knowledge linked to feeling. A combination of the senses I recognize with, perhaps, some senses that I don't. These unknown senses don't need to be understood to do their job. I don't know exactly how my heart and lungs work but I know that they are doing what they are supposed to be doing. My body/myself remain alive. I am more than my body. It makes sense that other parts of me, be they emotional, spiritual, soulful or other, would be, when functioning at an optimum level, not have to necessarily involve my conscious input to do what they do.
So I'm thinking about stuff lately. Not exactly sure where, if anywhere, it will take me. It's fun. Keeping me off the streets (for the most part). Regular scheduled programming will continue at a later date.
Others have been filtering in. A new balance is to be achieved. I feel that everything that is going on around me is right. It's supposed to happen. I don't know why. I'm not sure if I'm really supposed to know why. Maybe why isn't the correct question? I am feeling more centred. Peaceful.
A recent meeting with a postive thinker has provided me with much needed, and free, childcare. A quaker I met today brought me messages of peace as well as information on upcoming meetings. I will not go but it's nice to be asked to the dance. Dads are coming up to me in the playground to talk. The commonality between all? They are all searching. Actively or passively. Searching for answers. Meanings. Understanding.
I've been thinking about knowing. What is knowing? We use our senses...sight, smell, taste, touch and hearing. Then our minds do the requisite calculations and voila...we know something. Doesn't this put the act of thinking right up there with seeing and smelling in terms of sensory observation? If thinking is a sense does this change how the world is perceived?
Certain things are going on in my life that, when I actively attempt to think about them, my understanding/knowledge of them lessons. I know that I can't know these things through thinking. How do I know this? I don't know. But I do know. You know? It's a knowledge linked to feeling. A combination of the senses I recognize with, perhaps, some senses that I don't. These unknown senses don't need to be understood to do their job. I don't know exactly how my heart and lungs work but I know that they are doing what they are supposed to be doing. My body/myself remain alive. I am more than my body. It makes sense that other parts of me, be they emotional, spiritual, soulful or other, would be, when functioning at an optimum level, not have to necessarily involve my conscious input to do what they do.
So I'm thinking about stuff lately. Not exactly sure where, if anywhere, it will take me. It's fun. Keeping me off the streets (for the most part). Regular scheduled programming will continue at a later date.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Is Your Mechanism Working?
Driving home from the kids' dance class today I felt on edge. Strange. A whoosh of heat came through me. My mind was wandering. Floating. Walls have come down and I'm picking through the rubble. I'm working on teasing out emotional knots that have accumlated over the past couple years. I thought I had dealt with most things but now realize that I had dealt with the external factors--kids, finances, loss of partner etc. The internal factors had been shunted aside. First things first. Now, I guess, is the time to start dealing with the other crud. The nitty gritty. The essence of who I am beyond what I have experienced. Been through.
Traffic slowed in front of me. A car was stalled. The woman in the car was leaning back with her head in her hands. Waiting. Traffic pulled around her and waited at a red light. I looked left. Another woman jumped out of her car and fussed with something in her trunk. When she moved on there was yet another woman out of her car. She was shaking her head. Her car had started to make a strange noise and she didn't want to continue. Her girl friend, driving in a car behind her, got out to help. I carried on on to the highway thinking 'that was strange.' I kept driving and my mind flew away again. I made it to the off ramp and faced another slow down. When I got to the corner there was another car sitting at an intersection. Another woman in the drivers seat. Stalled. Hazard lights blinking.
I continued home. I haven't stalled.
Traffic slowed in front of me. A car was stalled. The woman in the car was leaning back with her head in her hands. Waiting. Traffic pulled around her and waited at a red light. I looked left. Another woman jumped out of her car and fussed with something in her trunk. When she moved on there was yet another woman out of her car. She was shaking her head. Her car had started to make a strange noise and she didn't want to continue. Her girl friend, driving in a car behind her, got out to help. I carried on on to the highway thinking 'that was strange.' I kept driving and my mind flew away again. I made it to the off ramp and faced another slow down. When I got to the corner there was another car sitting at an intersection. Another woman in the drivers seat. Stalled. Hazard lights blinking.
I continued home. I haven't stalled.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Icarus
So I reached out and touched the sun. And. And what? Of course I got burned. If only it were a flesh wound. I'll take a couple of days to lick my wounds. Add salve to my ego. And. And what? Continue. Of course.
You see. I needed to know. I already did. But I needed to be told. Straight from the horse's mouth. I was told. I was told that he couldn't. Not wouldn't. Couldn't. He went on for a bit. Explanatory circles. In the end, he had to go. "Ok," said I. "Cool," was his response. So clean. So neat. He hadn't been anything but himself. Sure. I get that. I hadn't been anything but myself. How could I be? How could he? I remember, however, the incident last year when one of my stafflings nearly fell through the ceiling. He had been told where to walk. He had been told to be careful. I was still responsible though. If he had been injured or killed my responsiblity would have been much more palpable. He wasn't hurt. I was still responsible. Life or death.
So.
At least I know I am capable of feeling. Capable of putting myself 'out there.' Not as scary as I thought really. Despite the outcome. The past few weeks were fun. I was happy. I don't know if I'll be quick to try again but I must take care. Take care not to sink. Too far down. He said that he used to try to fly. He keeps saying stuff like that. Stuff that resonates as truth inside of me. A reflection of myself. I'm hoping that I don't lose that part. That truth.
I too need to fly. If only to keep myself at arm's reach to the sun.
You see. I needed to know. I already did. But I needed to be told. Straight from the horse's mouth. I was told. I was told that he couldn't. Not wouldn't. Couldn't. He went on for a bit. Explanatory circles. In the end, he had to go. "Ok," said I. "Cool," was his response. So clean. So neat. He hadn't been anything but himself. Sure. I get that. I hadn't been anything but myself. How could I be? How could he? I remember, however, the incident last year when one of my stafflings nearly fell through the ceiling. He had been told where to walk. He had been told to be careful. I was still responsible though. If he had been injured or killed my responsiblity would have been much more palpable. He wasn't hurt. I was still responsible. Life or death.
So.
At least I know I am capable of feeling. Capable of putting myself 'out there.' Not as scary as I thought really. Despite the outcome. The past few weeks were fun. I was happy. I don't know if I'll be quick to try again but I must take care. Take care not to sink. Too far down. He said that he used to try to fly. He keeps saying stuff like that. Stuff that resonates as truth inside of me. A reflection of myself. I'm hoping that I don't lose that part. That truth.
I too need to fly. If only to keep myself at arm's reach to the sun.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Caught You Looking
Mirrors mirrors on the walls . . .
Catching fleeting glimpses of myself doing things that I have never before been able to see is unnerving. Unsettling. I feel like a voyeur of my own life. I, like many others I suppose, am uncomfortable with myself. I cringe when I hear recordings of my voice. Photographs rarely come close to capturing who I feel that I am. I would probably run screaming into the woods never to return should I ever get caught on film during sex. It's not that I carry a bad image of myself. I just prefer to see myself through your eyes than through my own.
So I face the mirrors and look above myself. I focus on a spot beyond where I am. I can see myself but am not the central image. I am one of many. I can work this way. Then I realize that I have done the same with you. Only occasionally do I look straight at you. Take your gaze. Create a oneness. I now recall that you have never looked away. You have met the gaze but haven't challenged it. You have accepted it and, allowed it to go its merry way when I needed to change my focus. You have been patient. And gentle.
There are so many reflections. Many types of reflections. Reflections upon reflections. Reflecting light. Reflecting Sound. Bats use sound waves to situate themselves. They send out signals that bounce back to them. The faster the signals are reflected back, the closer the object is. There must be a physical sensation/feeling attached to these signals. Wouldn't the bat need to 'know' if the surface is hard or soft. If the fruit is ripe or not? Otherwise, this navigational system would be too simple. Unelegant. When the natural world appears unelegant I tend to think that it's my perception that's flawed. I'm missing a piece of the big picture.
Memory is a reflection. So are moods. Emotions. Thoughts. We sit. We reflect. We reflect upon our world. We reflect upon our moods. Ourselves. These reflections feel incomplete. That perhaps we are only acknowledging part of what is being reflected our way. We see the reflection. Or touch it. Smell it. But we don't fully experience it. Actually, at some level we must be experiencing it fully. We just aren't aware of it. We stop at the image and get scared. Scared that someone else might be there. Looking.
Catching fleeting glimpses of myself doing things that I have never before been able to see is unnerving. Unsettling. I feel like a voyeur of my own life. I, like many others I suppose, am uncomfortable with myself. I cringe when I hear recordings of my voice. Photographs rarely come close to capturing who I feel that I am. I would probably run screaming into the woods never to return should I ever get caught on film during sex. It's not that I carry a bad image of myself. I just prefer to see myself through your eyes than through my own.
So I face the mirrors and look above myself. I focus on a spot beyond where I am. I can see myself but am not the central image. I am one of many. I can work this way. Then I realize that I have done the same with you. Only occasionally do I look straight at you. Take your gaze. Create a oneness. I now recall that you have never looked away. You have met the gaze but haven't challenged it. You have accepted it and, allowed it to go its merry way when I needed to change my focus. You have been patient. And gentle.
There are so many reflections. Many types of reflections. Reflections upon reflections. Reflecting light. Reflecting Sound. Bats use sound waves to situate themselves. They send out signals that bounce back to them. The faster the signals are reflected back, the closer the object is. There must be a physical sensation/feeling attached to these signals. Wouldn't the bat need to 'know' if the surface is hard or soft. If the fruit is ripe or not? Otherwise, this navigational system would be too simple. Unelegant. When the natural world appears unelegant I tend to think that it's my perception that's flawed. I'm missing a piece of the big picture.
Memory is a reflection. So are moods. Emotions. Thoughts. We sit. We reflect. We reflect upon our world. We reflect upon our moods. Ourselves. These reflections feel incomplete. That perhaps we are only acknowledging part of what is being reflected our way. We see the reflection. Or touch it. Smell it. But we don't fully experience it. Actually, at some level we must be experiencing it fully. We just aren't aware of it. We stop at the image and get scared. Scared that someone else might be there. Looking.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Crackers
I've taken to getting myself a bowl of soup at lunch time while I am at work. It's not the greatest soup in the world but, it's hot and relatively inexpensive. $2.14 will get me a large bowl of soup and 2 packages of crackers. Thing is, I can't eat soup without at least 5 packages of crackers. I like the texture to be mushy, not runny. When the consistency can be equated with baby puree I am happy. When the soup of the day is Thai red chicken curry or French Canadian pea, I am ecstatic! So what do I do? Instead of picking out the allowable 2 packages of crackers, I take 5. This always leads to some form of discussion at the cash.
Cashier: You know I have to charge you more for the extra crackers.
Me: Yes, I understand that.
Cashier: You get 2 packages free with the soup.
Me: Ok.
Cashier: Do you still want the extra crackers?
Me: Yes, please.
Cashier: I'm afraid I will have to charge you and extra $.30.
Me: Ok.
The cashier will then shake her head and hand me back the change and offer me a soup club card.
Cashier: If you get this card stamped 10 times, you will get a free soup.
Me: Does that include the extra crackers?
Cashier: Ummmm....I don't know. I don't think so. But you get 2 packages free.
Me: Never mind. I'll do without the card.
Thing is, I used to try to use these cards for shoes, coffee, soup, books and the like but I would invariably lose the card and have to start over again. I don't do cards anymore.
Today, when I got my soup, the cashier looked down at my bowl and 5 packages of crackers and then after ringing in my purchase whispered:
I haven't charged you for the extra crackers today.
I thanked her and left a $.30 tip.
Cashier: You know I have to charge you more for the extra crackers.
Me: Yes, I understand that.
Cashier: You get 2 packages free with the soup.
Me: Ok.
Cashier: Do you still want the extra crackers?
Me: Yes, please.
Cashier: I'm afraid I will have to charge you and extra $.30.
Me: Ok.
The cashier will then shake her head and hand me back the change and offer me a soup club card.
Cashier: If you get this card stamped 10 times, you will get a free soup.
Me: Does that include the extra crackers?
Cashier: Ummmm....I don't know. I don't think so. But you get 2 packages free.
Me: Never mind. I'll do without the card.
Thing is, I used to try to use these cards for shoes, coffee, soup, books and the like but I would invariably lose the card and have to start over again. I don't do cards anymore.
Today, when I got my soup, the cashier looked down at my bowl and 5 packages of crackers and then after ringing in my purchase whispered:
I haven't charged you for the extra crackers today.
I thanked her and left a $.30 tip.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Cue Music
Picture this if you will. Last night at approximately 9:30pm I went upstairs to deliver the final 'go to sleep' message to the wee ones. The boy was in the girl's bed and I separated them in order to help bring peace and quiet.
At 9:32pm I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and going to the back door. The boy, in his jammies, put on his shoes and his bright yellow raincoat and proceeded to go outside clutching his two stuffed frogs -- Reebeet and Peebeet -- tightly to his chest.
'Where are you going?' I asked.
'Away. I'm going to live with my daddy. He left so why can't I.'
It was raining. Lightly. I followed him outside. I suggested that he come back in and we give his dad a call.
'No. I don't want to talk to him. But I'm serious. I'm leaving.'
Tears welled up in my eyes, fell down my cheeks and mixed with the rain. Barefoot, I walked with him as he approached the road and turned to continue down the sidewalk. He kept a few feet ahead but stopped every 4 or 5 steps in order to turn around and make sure I was still there.
We walked like this for awhile in silence. We turned the corner and a car stopped and the driver and passenger asked me for directions. It was surreal. My son and I both stopped and seemed to break out of our trance. I provided the information and turned, once again, to look at the boy. We stood facing each other in the rain. Neither of us were moving. It was not so much a stand off but a recognition of the distance between us. A recognition that he was angry, scared, confused and frustrated; that we both were. A recognition that getting older was hard. A recognition that even the relationship between a mother and son required attention. Work. I held out my hand and, at first, he backed away.
I remembered a favourite poem of mine (of course I can't for the life of me remember the author or title right now). The poem depicted a scene wherein a mother and son are outside and the son goes too close to the edge of a cliff. The mother could not cry out for fear that her son, becoming startled, would fall. Instead, she opened up her blouse revealing her breasts. The boy, seeing this, runs towards her into her embrace and safety.
I told the boy that I loved him and that I would not leave him. I told him that I would stay with him regardless of how many 'even ifs' he could come up with. He reached out and grabbed my hand. We walked, side by side back to the house. I brought him up to his bed and held him until he fell asleep.
Tears and rain remained moist upon my cheeks.
At 9:32pm I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and going to the back door. The boy, in his jammies, put on his shoes and his bright yellow raincoat and proceeded to go outside clutching his two stuffed frogs -- Reebeet and Peebeet -- tightly to his chest.
'Where are you going?' I asked.
'Away. I'm going to live with my daddy. He left so why can't I.'
It was raining. Lightly. I followed him outside. I suggested that he come back in and we give his dad a call.
'No. I don't want to talk to him. But I'm serious. I'm leaving.'
Tears welled up in my eyes, fell down my cheeks and mixed with the rain. Barefoot, I walked with him as he approached the road and turned to continue down the sidewalk. He kept a few feet ahead but stopped every 4 or 5 steps in order to turn around and make sure I was still there.
We walked like this for awhile in silence. We turned the corner and a car stopped and the driver and passenger asked me for directions. It was surreal. My son and I both stopped and seemed to break out of our trance. I provided the information and turned, once again, to look at the boy. We stood facing each other in the rain. Neither of us were moving. It was not so much a stand off but a recognition of the distance between us. A recognition that he was angry, scared, confused and frustrated; that we both were. A recognition that getting older was hard. A recognition that even the relationship between a mother and son required attention. Work. I held out my hand and, at first, he backed away.
I remembered a favourite poem of mine (of course I can't for the life of me remember the author or title right now). The poem depicted a scene wherein a mother and son are outside and the son goes too close to the edge of a cliff. The mother could not cry out for fear that her son, becoming startled, would fall. Instead, she opened up her blouse revealing her breasts. The boy, seeing this, runs towards her into her embrace and safety.
I told the boy that I loved him and that I would not leave him. I told him that I would stay with him regardless of how many 'even ifs' he could come up with. He reached out and grabbed my hand. We walked, side by side back to the house. I brought him up to his bed and held him until he fell asleep.
Tears and rain remained moist upon my cheeks.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Boys and Girls
The other night in a bar:
Him: Girls are very complicated.
Me: Really? I don't think so.
Him: So you think you're not complicated.
Me: No. What I want in a fellow is pretty simple. I want someone who is good at what he does but isn't what he does. I want someone who is kind and sincere. Stupid folk need not apply. I'd like someone who will stand up for himself, his ideals and me and, who will stand up to me when warranted.
Him: I'd like her to be pretty and in to me...but not stupid.
Me: Ya, I guess girls are a bit more complicated. You win.
Him: Girls are very complicated.
Me: Really? I don't think so.
Him: So you think you're not complicated.
Me: No. What I want in a fellow is pretty simple. I want someone who is good at what he does but isn't what he does. I want someone who is kind and sincere. Stupid folk need not apply. I'd like someone who will stand up for himself, his ideals and me and, who will stand up to me when warranted.
Him: I'd like her to be pretty and in to me...but not stupid.
Me: Ya, I guess girls are a bit more complicated. You win.
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