Thursday, May 13, 2010

Spa Day

The other night, I had one of those scary single woman evenings. I was wearing the most unattractive outfit I own, big baggy workout pants that I stole from an Ex-Boyfriend and a Red Sox t-shirt. No make-up, hair in a pony tail. I was completely comfortable. It wasn’t that I was depressed or upset; I just wanted to be in my own skin for awhile.

Instead of baking a cake like I had planned, I grabbed a spoon out of the drawer, opened the can of frosting, and ate it straight out of the can. I wasted the evening doing absolutely nothing of importance. I didn’t want to blog, I didn’t want to Facebook, or watch a movie or read. I just wanted to enjoy the silence. I just wanted to allow thought to flow through me and around me without direction. I didn’t ponder, I didn’t find something funny, I just laid on my bed and allowed myself to exist without the pressure of purpose. It was amazing. I loved every minute of it.

How would this kind of night work in a relationship? At some point you would want to talk to me, interrupting my nothingness of thought. At some point you would question if that entire can of frosting was gonna make me fat. You would hate how those pants make my butt look and you’d probably try to tell me the Red Sox suck. Wouldn’t you? Something about that kind of evening would annoy the crap out of you. I wish I could say that kind of night rarely happens, but they do happen and I need them.

I am not sure what I accomplish in those evenings. On the surface it is a complete lack of ambition, self-control, and presence. How could anything come from that? I have no idea. What I do know is that it’s better than a Spa day. I feel rejuvenated and renewed. The next day I get back to tackling the world, helping others and looking fabulous.

Am I capable of marriage? Am I capable of giving up something like that night, just because it makes you uncomfortable, or because you think less of me because of it? How do I tame myself enough to make my world palatable to you? Would you ask me to? What is it about you that I am going to hate? These are the worries that flood in whenever I consider the thought of Happily Ever After.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Puzzle Pieces

What am I supposed to do with myself in these darkest hours of the night? When my soul wants to take flight from my body and be free to think all the deep thoughts that I am too busy to think about during the day. All my preoccupation and distractions melt into still silence and I am left alone to question my purpose, question my God, question my path, question my resolve, question my strength, question…question… question.

All my shelters and shields that protect me from the outside world during the day are meaningless at night. The storm rages within me. I feel the weight of my skin restrain me, holding me back, keeping me ordinary. Almost like a lost dog at a pound that frantically struggles against his cage; he knows he has a home and just wants to be free to find his way. Sometimes I feel like I neglect my soul. I ignore my own longings just so I can maintain my ordinariness. The thought makes me sick with disappointment at myself. How dare I have the audacity to attempt to squelch something that feels like it is ripping me in half! Will this war end me?

Beloved, sometimes I need your guidance. I need a sounding board to bounce ideas off of. I need you to hear me. Maybe what I really want is for you to have crazy ideas that I can listen to. Maybe if we’re crazy together it’ll all make sense some how. I need you to help me with the puzzle pieces of life; we’re supposed to build this thing together remember?

My struggle isn’t with God or loneliness, it’s with me. Having been blessed with so much, such an abundant life, guilt knocks at my door and raps on my windows and sends nasty past due collection notices to me. Guilt is my terrorist and he demands his ransom.

It’s worse than that though, guilt almost makes it sound selfless and this isn’t selfless. What is this? Impact, I want to have impact. To be able to know that all these blessings were for something more worthy than just me. My life is too good. My heart is too happy. I am too full. I can’t just keep all of this for myself, can I? I’m supposed to do something with it right?

Where is my outlet? Where do I funnel all of this? Right now the only thing that makes sense is to write. To just be honest with the blank page in front of me. Hopefully I learn to let my soul take a stroll across the pages and maybe one day I will be able to express the beauty that God has implanted in my heart.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Short Stories

Venturing out into the world of dating, I never for minute thought it was possible to lie to someone about loving them. How something as sacred as love could be lied about was beyond my comprehension. How dead does your soul have to be to tell such a lie? That lesson I learned the hard way. It is possible, and your soul doesn’t have to be dead in order to do it.

Simply enough, it is possible to convince yourself that loving the way someone makes you feel is the same as loving that person. We all need to be loved. We all want to be desired. We all want to be needed. The sense of security that is associated with these things is intense and beautiful. We assume someone finds value in me. What if that isn’t the case? What if we are riding a wave of emotions that crashes us on the shores of reality; this isn’t love, its human need. Too many of my relationships have ended on those shores. Am I done making mistakes?

For the first time in my life, I feel like I finally get it. I no longer believe the lie of love. The reason for that is I no longer need to be loved. I can be alone and be comfortable with who I am. I love myself and I know my own value. I no longer need you to find it for me.

Beloved, I don’t want our love story to be a short story. I don’t want to wake up next you one day and wonder, “Who’s the stranger in my bed?” I want to love your substance. I want to love your beautiful soul and all the stupid tiny details of you. So if you are still working on finding your own value, I understand. Take all the time that you need. When you are ready, I’ll be right here, ready to start our journey.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Dancing Bags

The ability to find beauty in everyday things isn’t common. Many of us cannot be bothered with simplicity. I find myself being wistful and dreamy over the smallest things. I don’t expect you to completely understand. Actually, if you got all weepy as often as I do, I would think you were seriously lacking the Dude gene. For me it isn’t something that I try to do. Sometimes things just demand my attention.

When I watched this, I was moved. I knew exactly how he felt. To be stopped cold by the overwhelming, consuming, heart wrenching beauty that you absolutely cannot deny. These moments are God moments for me. These are moments when I am aware he’s beside me. When I know he loves me. We all look for signs of his presence in the world; signs that he exists. The signs are everywhere, we just walk past them. Maybe the reason so many people miss them is because they are looking for something bigger. Something more impressive than a dancing bag, but God isn’t like that. He’s subtle. He journeys through our lives with us. He’s constantly at our side like an attentive lover.

We put so much pressure on a relationship to “complete” us. We expect our loved ones to fill all the gaps that we have in our hearts. How would someone, who isn’t complete themselves, complete someone else? It’s not possible. We have to be completed already and only God can grant us that. I say I’m complete, but I don’t want you to think I don’t need you. I need you so badly, words cannot express the void. My life will always be less without you. Where are you Lovey?

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Rollerskate Rocket Ships

Day dreaming is a dangerous business. I get lost in my dreams. I can spend hours staring into nothing while playing in my head. The best part about day dreaming is no one can make fun of my mind’s idle wanderings. They’re my secret and I don’t have to share. The problem is that at some point, you want to share. At some point you want someone else to play in the magical kingdom in your head.

For a short time in my life, my cousin Scott lived next door. Scott was my bestest friend and we would spend hours playing imagination. We played Flintstones, and Top Gun, and Race Car Drivers, and Roller Skate Rocket Ships. We never thought a new idea was stupid. It was perfect, simply because it was new idea. Would we fight? Sure! Did we ever question for a second that we’d play again tomorrow? Never! We understood each other.

One day I decided that no one would ever understand me as much as Scott did. No one would ever want to play imagination all day. I explained to Scott that we were gonna have to get married. I didn’t understand what married meant or the details involved. All I knew was that it was important to find someone that you could spend a lot of time with, for the REST OF YOUR LIFE! You couldn’t trade, or go home when you got bored. You were gonna be stuck with them forever! If I was gonna be stuck with someone, I wanted it be Scott.

“WHAT?! We cant get married! We’re cousins!” Scott yelled down from the Eucalyptus tree. This was a new rule! I didn’t know family members were not allowed! “Why does that matter?” I asked curiously. “Because. Duh. “He retorted matter-of-factly. “ Don’t “Duh” me. Why not? What’s the reason?” “Because! DUH! Our babies would be deformed and ugly! AND… because I don’t want to kiss you!” Whoa! More rules! “Ewww! I don’t want to kiss you either! Yuck! Couldn’t we promise never to kiss and not have babies?” “Nope. If you get married you have to kiss. The preacher makes you kiss. And you have to have babies, once you’re married, there’s no stopping it. It just happens.” Great! I thought. I’m doomed! Not only do I have to find someone who wants to play imagination all day, but now I have to find someone to kiss and make babies! This sucks!

Luckily, I found out I like kisses and babies. What I struggle with is I can’t get anyone to play imagination with me. No one wants to pretend to conquer the tiny village on the other side of the couch. No one wants to pretend we have neighbors that are KGB. So instead of playing with them, I play in my head, and time and time again I am alone in a relationship. I can point the finger at my ex’s all I want for all reasons why we didn’t work. But the truth of the matter is that I stopped playing with them.

Have you ever wished that someone would just play with you and not think you’re crazy? Or write a story with you? Or just allow you some down time to play by yourself without thinking that there is something wrong with the relationship? I feel like that all the time.

I get scared sometimes that I am making you up in my head. A great Prince Charming that is so like me, so different from everyone else; all the problems we have had in past relationships wouldn’t be a problem for us. What scares me is; what if I build up my dreams so high that you can’t get in? What if I dream too long? Will I end up like a cursed Snow White? Dreaming away the days; waiting for Prince Charming. Only instead of waking up to true loves kiss, I keep dreaming. What if I like my dreams more than you?

Wednesday, April 28, 2010


I spent time with my grandparents recently. They are the smallest people I have ever met and I towered over them. They were engulfed and lost in my embrace and I had the hardest time believing that I belonged to them. My dad wasn’t close to them while I was growing up which means that I hardly know them at all.

I can only remember seeing them three times while I was a child. I know now, that even then I recognized that I was the outsider there. The other family members were comfortable in their chairs and conversations. The other children knew where the toys were stored and how many cans of soda we were allowed to have. So easily and casually they would slip up into the laps of our grandparents without ceremony; an act so graceful and seamless that it screamed of belonging. I didn’t have that here. I observed, (without knowing I was observing, what six year old understands that they are observing?) that my father didn’t feel at home here either. He was awkward and guarded. He never seemed to relax as much as my aunts and uncles. I watched as he carefully selected his words and his place in the free flowing conversations. Regardless of how welcome they made us feel, we still felt different. I am not sure if my feelings sprung from his actions or from the striking contrast in my behavior compared to my cousins, but never the less, I felt I was a guest and not family.

Spending time with them as an adult wasn’t much different at the beginning. I couldn’t help noticing all the ways this family was different from my family. I didn’t have their influence on my life so everything from what they ate to how they acted with each other was foreign. But, just when I didn’t think I could find a common ground to help me relate to these people, it happened, and it was magical. My grandparents got into an argument. Napkins; to have or have not napkins. Simple as that. My grandmother was anti-napkin, my grandfather was pro-napkin, let the debate begin. The exchange was priceless as I watched the verbal volley between the two. “That reminds me, stop bringing home those restaurant napkins.” My grandmother randomly demands. All eyes at the table turn to my Grandfather who is staring at her with amused shock, “Huh?” “They’re taking up space in the bedroom.” “They’re on my side of the bed.” “Yes, but I need that space.” “You have the entire room of space; you need my napkin space too?” “Yes, and I keep throwing them away, but you keep bringing them home.” “I keep bringing them home because they’re never there when I need them. Now I know why.” “Well, stop it.” It was like watching two retired tennis pro’s knocking a ball around for the fun of it. Neither one of them won this match, it was merely an exercise.

I fell in love with my grandparents in that moment. I love that they have lived their entire lives together. I love that they know all the details of each other and haven’t grow tired or bored. I love that they still enjoy a good mental spar. I finally knew how I connected to them and through them to the rest of my family. I wasn’t a guest anymore, I was their granddaughter.

That night, I realized how much I need you. I realized that we can have the next 40 years to pick nonsense arguments with each other just to see who has the superior intellect. I realized that I missed your company beyond measure. I realized that I am complete without you, but that I can’t wait to share this beautiful life with you. I realized that it was high time for me to stop playing with my distraction relationships and make room for you in my life. I realized that it is time for me to look for you. Beloved, I don’t know who you are, where you live, or what your life is like right now, but I want you to know that I am on my way to your side.

The Problem Is...

I have discovered that I am one of those annoying Facebook people that updates their status every few minutes. I am crowding my friend’s news feeds, simply because I don’t have you to talk you. I should be annoying you with my random thoughts of humor or observations, but I can’t, because you’re not here. I decided to Blog instead of Facebook, besides it isn’t them that I want to talk to anyway. I know it seems silly that I want to have a conversation with you, considering I have idea who you are, but I can’t stop myself. I want to share with you, and in the absence of you, I will embrace the dream of you. I know you’re out there, somewhere. I imagine and I hope that you miss me as much as I miss you. I pray you find this page and that you find value in the words because these are my love letters to you.