Entries from November 2012

expectation

November 26, 2012

did i lose a week? or did i gain a week?

i can’t decide yet? and yes, i mean to end that sentence with a ? and yes, feel free to answer for me.

the last 9 days are wrapped in panels of gossamer, crammed tightly in a strong-box of iron, hidden underneath old, dusty furniture and discarded playthings in a recessed attic, in the east wing of a twenty-plus bedroom, english countryside estate, blanketed with fog, haunted by ghosts friendly, and found shrouded through knotty, one-laned, stomach turning back roads accessed only via horse and carriage. 

asking me to recollect my days, nights and moments sends me into a brow furrow so creviced, the jaws of life must be called into play to pull my forehead back into unity.

i remember coffee, numerology, beautiful babies, the sun and the moon ascending over the ocean and cypress trees, raw diets, and political cease fires. but that’s about as detailed as i can go.

why does reminiscence sometimes feel like level 10 on the stairmaster? why does spelling reminiscence feel like level 11 on the stairmaster?

expectation.

expectation was a big theme of the trip, but please don’t ask me to recall examples or anecdotes. i just know that there were tears, laughter, opinions, meals, and silence shared over the topic of expectation. 

how, even though we try our hardest not set expectations for people, events, vacations, etc. we ultimately do so anyway. the consequence being we end up getting let down or we’re surprisingly dazzled. i often don’t know i’ve had an expectation until i feel the resulting positive or negative emotion. 

my lesson, which isn’t a new one, is to refocus my attention to the now. i believe much of my angst with re-chronicling is whether my experience lives up to others’ expectations for me. it shouldn’t matter, but that’s a whole ‘nother carton of eggs to crack.

did i lose a week? or gain a week? what week?

it’s about today, and i’m happy to be here, home with you.

monday happy to you m’loves.

bock-bock! i’m a chicken….

November 23, 2012

i am not a fighter.

i hate competition and combat. i rarely see its merit {unless there is crime committed or an innocent victim needs defense.} i definitely own up to that part of me who cringes at one-on-one confrontation, typically involving hearsay, emotional filters, gossip and other arbitrary, childhood contaminants which further pollute the embryonic squawk at hand. 

it would be different if it were in a courtroom though. i’d be great in a courtroom, with witnesses and tactile evidence, and of course, a fabulous philip lim suit: 

“your honor, i’d like to present exhibit number 13: the conversation that took place on october 17, 2008, at 0-two-hundred-hours, in the city of …….., at the starbucks, on the corner of misread and not listening.”

indisputable, concrete proof of grievances which could be dissected, analyzed, judged and juried. 

unfortunately this is not how hurts and personal sads are balmed over. there is no neosporin for the ego convinced he or she has been abandoned. hearts grieve, tempers rage, and misunderstandings grow vaster and more creviced, like the san andreas fault…..just waiting for another earth shattering, devastating, life altering, quake. 

such a pity. such a waste. 

 i have always lived believing that one doesn’t necessarily have to raise the roof to voice their side of things in order to be brave or just. for me, silence isn’t a lack of arsenal but rather a preference for peace.

this is only my choice. 

but i actually feel quite strong standing on these, wobbly chicken legs.

wishing you a weekend of peace and of course, love.

see you on the other side of sunday.

love,

katie

a little less “whack”….

November 22, 2012

 

all year-long i set pen to paper to list the things, people and circumstances i’m thankful for. typically i’m uncontainable: an erupting geyser of gratitude; oodles of exclamatory grammar gymnastics and language syntax conveying my whistling teapot of happy. 

it’s ironic to me that on this day of thanks, the christmas of gratitude, i’m honestly finding myself at a loss, and very sad.

sure there’s my treasure chest of people whom, already having heard from me this morning, those who lift me up in ways i can’t replicate with words or photographs or music. those spirits who pull my closed off, silk-threaded, slimy-crusted heart, out from under the deep roots of swampy mangroves, and fling it out over the ocean, forcing me to find my own butterfly wings in order to fly amongst my fellow flock. 

i have a legion of warriors by my side and in my heart; spurring me on to find my deepest, most full throttle laugh, and the most golden embers of warmth humans can feel from one another. i am the luckiest girl in the world. and with all that love, i therefore feel guilty for my sadness i feel today.

but there is one person who makes my world complete, and he is not by my side, like he has been every year on this day. 

my dad, my rock, my first love, is not with us this year.

he is in jail taking responsiblity for his life’s actions with dignity and grace. and although i’m extremely proud of him for his elegance in dealing with the ramifications, every day my heart is sick for his absence. 

today i am thankful for the support i’ve received from friends and family. i am breathless for a husband with superhero powers who i fall more and more in love each hour i’m near him. i’m thankful for a mother who’s unyielding strength inspires me to keep trekking on and her unfaltering faith helps me soften my own heart on those who continue to include me in their crosshairs. 

and as always i am thankful for you. those who are out there reading my nonsense, my streams of non-consciousness.  it’s such a lonely place this world. it stinks sometimes. but most of the time it’s a bouquet of lilies, tied with a lilac satin bow. thank you for giving me a place to vomit share my feelings. i don’t mean to burden you. most of the time i know i sound like a whack-a-doo, i know i do. but, i don’t know, after i write a little here….it’s like i feel just a little less whack.

love to you,

katie

 

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