the heart's big bang

Sitting is easy silence, baby sweetly sleeping, and wondering (knowing) if this is real life.

I haven't blogged in too long, too many (so many) changes, and never wrote the obligatory Old Year/New Year post I usually do.

I struggle, now, to place words here. I have written endlessly in the past month. More words with more meaning and depth and breadth than ever before in my life. But those words cast only to one person, and only with one intention in mind. They were not, no matter the acceptance, meant for this venue. Meant to be shared publicly. They are deep and true and the best.

And somehow, in tangled up love, I rediscovered the truest form of my writing. And, also, a form I had never known. An expression of love instead of pain.

Reading old blog posts, or even so far back as highschool poetry, my most outstanding was also my most deeply painful. And if attempted something based on an emotion kin to love, it felt flat and listless.

And now? Loves beams pour from my eyes. From my fingertips and etch words of faith and truth and future. Love permeates and fills in gaps. Like sand around stones. Makes whole and steadier. Makes it all.

I could write forever about how this is different. It is. I could write for hours and hours and pages on how I didn't know this could be real and how I was never this girl. But I won't. Because, well, what's the point? It's all true. But also? What is more true?

This is it. This is life. My life, my love, my partnership, my family. My future, whatever it may be, is bigger and brighter and truer.

I have kept this huge deep expansive love very private. Because it is not, again, the stuff to share. Unless you can peer into my very soul, and only one can do that, you cannot know. And that's...well, instead of just okay, it's magical. Because this love is just ours.

So, there are a million things I would to write about and catch up blog-land on. But, in this little moment of sweet domestic partnership, I just wanted to say this:

Everything comes from love.

#itsmorethanjustthesetights

Something worldly, pretty small.
Silly, pink and striped.
But, certain things hold onto memories like sponges.
Songs, scents, whispers of wind.
Today was bravery and quiet, private, healing.
Peace and release.
Another chip filled in, and another breath breathed.

I held my baby extra hard tight.
Told him he was golden.

Remembered staring hard to hold back the flood.
Pleading desperation I only barely knew.
It felt imprinted, I almost threw them away.

Not today.
Today I hold my head up and dance with my baby.
Today I revel in my bravery.
Today I am better.

bonus gratitude: children

After a cold, sunny adventure of gathering pinecones and hide and seek with three fun and awesome kids, I came into my warm house and was struck, deeply.

I have never been grateful for my new career path.

I have felt lucky to be able to stay home with my boy, and glad I had something to provide the community. I've been excited for so very many parts of the journey, and my pride at what I've built is huge.

But I had not until today felt joyous gratitude that I get to love amazing children and get paid for it. I get to tromp around the yard in crunchy leaves, I get to play lions and ROAR, I get to hug hug hug hurt feelings away. I get to teach love and respect and how to build a puzzle. I get to love these sweet perfectly imperfect, always learning little sponges. I get big hugs and kisses and laughter, and get paid for it. 

I am so deeply grateful that my life has led me here. I had no idea, I never aspired to this or could have planned it. But I am here, and I am grateful. 

for all the wine and doritos

So this feels super awkward to write, even know it's been on my mind forever and I've probably written a few different incarnations.

I haven't had a best friend through my whole life. It just hasn't worked out that way. Who was a best friend when I was a kid, didn't translate into my teen years, and then again didn't into my adult years. That's fine, and probably normal. But hard, sometimes. I lost of a lot of friends a few years ago, through no fault of anyone's. But it was hard not having someone in my life that just knew it all.

And then, there was this girl I met. This awkward redhead who I didn't like. Who annoyed me. (Bare with me).

I met her in the middle of a crazy stressful day and a weird time in my life. I don't exactly remember the first time we intentionally hung out outside of work. I just remember late nights of wine and shared experiences and talking about anything. I remember a camping trip after which I thought I'd kill her.

I also remember telling her the biggest hardest secret. She was the one who lifted me and held me up through what, at the time, was the hardest thing I'd felt. She supported me even when I was a crappy friend and making awful decisions. I knew she was a true friend.

And then, I texted her from the bathroom floor that I was pregnant. And she came over with chocolate chip pumpkin bread and layed in bed and held me while I cried. And told me she would be the papa. (Seriously, I'm cracking up over that now!)

This girl was the one, is the ONLY PERSON who knows everything of the last 2 years of my life. The one who I sent copies of messages to, in stunned silence. The one who listened to me swoon and complain and cry over the same dumb guy for the past 2 years, and then again over another one and another one. The one who babysits for first dates and then tells me how I could do so much better. The one who brings me wine and lets me cry. Who made me go big with my poetry, and who inspired me, and who I wrote a damn poem about.

And who loves this kid so much. His bond with her is big. She might not know it, but I see it. I tell him Auntie is coming over and he WAITS for her, frantic. He knows she's family.

I wanted to write this, because in the midst of a lot of lost friendships, in a sea of garbage relationships and lost ideals and deep sadness, she was and is there for me. And for my son. She's the kind of friend who I can tell the damn truth to, and who I know will never sugar coat for me. Who will be there even if we're on each other's last nerve.

And I taught her how to chop tomatoes.

I love you, Jenna.

peace

It's so strange how wonderful it feels to sit down and type on my computer. I so rarely get the chance, and haven't had more than a few moments to myself for the better part of a week.

I don't know what to write, except that I feel a fog lift. A fog that's lingered for a really long time.

The journey of the past couple years has been hard. And the journey of the last 6 months has tested me more than I could have imagined.

I didn't really realize the toll it took. How hard it is for me to trust the people I should the most. I haven't experienced that level of backstabbing, bullying, lying, and overall deceit since high school. I didn't know adults could act that way. It's been incredibly hard to believe in the good.

I am discovering, in tears, that I have been waiting for the other shoe to drop for months. My experience with my previous landlord was so incredibly awful that I just keep expecting something to fall apart here. And I can't let go of that and trust and believe this is home. I'm starting to. I like going weeks without hearing from my landlords, and yet knowing they'd be here in a minute if I needed it.

I have experienced deep deep deep betrayal, and distrust of myself. I'm done talking about it because it's old news. But 2 years ago right now was the hardest time of my life. I didn't know if I'd make it through. I don't even feel sad anymore. I just feel...done. Maybe 2 years is long enough to start getting real distance. I know there will never be any real closure, but there's an end to the daily anxiety. And that's something huge.

Most recently, and what tipped me over the edge, was a kind of passive aggressive bullying I didn't ever expect. While, of course, wrong and misguided and awful, I'm sorry I gave this person that ammunition. And, perhaps in turn, the pain, to lash out. This won't be read by said individual, but maybe if I put it out there. I'm deeply sorry what I shared hurt you, I am. You should know me enough to know I didn't intend that. I hope you can see beyond mere words and see who I am, see that what I shared doesn't define who I am in any way. Mostly, I hope you find peace.

My life is just so incredibly odd sometimes. It has led me places I couldn't imagine. I would have nearly none of my closest friends if it wasn't for my darling baby. I can't imagine what I would be doing, or where my heart would be.

I know I feel a bit of peace tonight. I cannot explain where it's finally come from, just that it is there.

I am at peace with whomever chooses to be in my life, and whomever chooses not to. I am at peace with my own choices, and mostly:

I am at peace with who I am.

quality > quantity

I had a moment, driving home from errands today, in harsh wind with a crying toddler. I had moment, where I reframed everything that's been really deeply bothering me. Where I realized I needed to make much much more intentional choices with my relationships.

Like the light flipped on and the pieces fit - slammed - into place. I understand much better, without placing extra and unnecessary blame on myself. So, if I can understand, reframe, and reintention my romantic relationships and my approach to them, what next?

Friendship. Or, more so, acquaintance-ship. I had let blow-up drama really infiltrate my soul. And rightly so, because this was awful. I bought into it and responded to being bullied with stubbornness at my own detriment. No, being bullied is not okay. And with less on the line, I might fight back. But this is absolutely not worth it.

Instead of being stubborn and 'not backing down', I am choosing a different path. I am choosing, for myself, to rid my life of negativity and bullying and drama. And how that choice might appear to others is not my concern.

And, on the same vein, I am for the first time actively choosing to let people out of my life. I am forever a fighter and will battle to the death to keep someone - anyone - in my life. And sometimes that's worthwhile. Most of the time? It's not. And there is a huge and amazing difference between passively letting someone walk away, and actively showing them the door.

My door has been slamming a lot lately.

And the people who remain? Multitudes more valuable.

gratitude: the little things

I almost didn't write this tonight. Because I haven't been feeling terribly grateful. And then I realized that this is the exact moment when I need to write this the most, it's the whole point.

So this is a little different.

I'm grateful for the sweep of evening misty fog that slips over the pastures and turns known roads into mysterious adventures.

I'm grateful for bright sun on equally bright, if dulling, crispy leaves. For the lashing winds that sweep this season away into the next along side the leaves of yesterday. For rain rain rain that drowns down the sorrows and cozies up the middle of the days.

I'm grateful for the quiet mornings, lighter now, that are a welcome routine for the first time ever. These long lasting moments of still, with hot tea and cold water and breathes to myself. 

I'm grateful for the final chill in the air, for snuggling up deep in blankets and sweaters and hot cups of anything.

This is my season. This is the season of family and love. Which makes it painful and beautiful and lonely and sweet. And I choose to focus on the beautiful and sweet.

The coziest of cozy.