Sunday, June 19, 2011
Wow. I just had a delicious emotional journey. I felt contracted, wrong, not good enough, etc. I walked out Sunset Cliffs rd. and I started to cry and release and then get angry and pushy, wanting a feeling of control I felt I had no access to. I played with hating the things I couldn’t control. I sat in the woods by the water for this and then walked again. Still adrift, poking at anger to see if I could find something there. I really didn’t like the feeling of wrong that I had found myself in before. Then I asked if I could appreciate where I had just been. Where I am. The exact and so very specific me having this experience, being this person. It was the specific quality of what I have been focusing on, what I want, etc. that I was thinking about. It brought a lot of relief to consider this and notice that I really do love this person that I am. And from there, it is not very far from the person I relish being. They are not that different. Not that different at all. Really. I walked home. I realized that I had dropped into my legs fully, my hips, knees, muscles, feet. Very nice, full feeling. Then I thought of exactly how I want to feel as I write stories. I want to write emotional journeys: Tales of whatever level of empowerment in beautifully graphic and varied details. I went with the cat to the front yard and sat in a chair. I noticed that my desire to have subtle and specific sensation was paramount. I looked out at the lake. I relaxed. I felt the cool air. Saw the colors, savored, praised. I had access to my whole mind. I could, as I do now, feel the still intelligence of my body—so willing to show me relief and satisfaction. Everything I have ever wanted is within range. It is what I saw and felt.
A day after the first roller derby bout of the season. Scott and Jen, Lauren and Matt, Becky and Sara, Miki and Christine were there. It was especially thrilling to see Becky whom I haven’t seen in two months. A deep thrill. A cross section of friends. In the bathroom I squealed without sound at my fortune. At the surprise of feeling meaningful, delicious friendships. Relief and delight. And then we took Eric home so he could go to jake’s ugly sweater birthday party, and we met Scott, Jen, Lauren and Matt at Duindo Duende. We were planning on having chicken and waffles but they were out of it. So, we ordered a delightful string salad, pork buns, and a cheeseburger. Ahh…It was perfect conversation. Ease almost completely amongst all of us. Getting into my warm bed was ecstasy by the time I got there. When I worked earlier in the day I had a renewed interest in writing. Like I could and I had to. So, here I am. Certainly, the highlight of being at penny cluse is my outfits. Oh my, my outfits. So unique and almost always comfortable. Doing yoga just now. Crying and angry I discovered the reason to be angry. The reason is again, that if I have decided I can’t do, be or have something I want there is a reason to be angry! It’s not true that I cannot. Ever. I can, and the anger is what draws me back to the possibility of what I want. The flow and the energy of it.
Spring! The full moon was last night. Very big. WE went outside on the lawn, The snow shrinking. I felt how beautiful this land is. How rich it is. How I can become more aware of it, more sensitive to its power and presence. I imagined going outside more deliberately every night. Having rituals. Being more involved in the land. I guess it is the same as being engaged in anything directly and creatively. I simply can be writing more elaborately. I do so love what I write here. In little spurts, I love so much. It is true. And, right now. It is mid morning. I am in the sunroom. The sun is shining. Spring is both here and becoming. I am basking a bit in being here. I just thought of going to Kripalu. The distance from now to April 3, when I leave. Such a nice, plump distance.
My mom’s birthday. A week-end of being at Anne’s house in Virginia for Easter. How wonderful! Hannah and I snuggled a lot. We all went on luxurious, hot weather walks. I bought Luke a book and he wrote the diary of a wimpy kid entries. He is a great writer. In the backyard, on the afternoon of Easter, we all set out chairs in a circle and spontaneously started a game of catch with a soccer ball. So fun. Anne and I walked in talked in the 80 degree heat the morning that I left. It felt good to connect with the non-mom part of her. It is a big part. She is hilarious.