love (Page 2)

We sit. Quiet. Breathing. How loud loud loud my mind. So full of fast thoughts. So full of fast thoughts. So full of fast fast fast fast fast thoughts. So full and busy and I can’t hear anything because so much is going on in my mind.
People sneeze, cough, shift in their seats. What is it like, at meeting for worship?

meeting room
Portland Friends Meeting
Settling in to a comfortable position. Aware of my posture, my legs, my arms and hands. More aware of my body as the chaos of my mind’s voices chatter away in the background. Noticing new aches and pains, behind my left eye, throughout my jaw, my spine, my lower back. How my jaw clenches tightly over to the side. Becoming aware. Gently reposition my lower jaw so my teeth rest not quite touching, but in line. How awkward the rest of my face feels. How I notice my spine more now. I lift my head lightly as if a string comes from my spine up through the top of my head. Lifting.
New people enter the room, finding seats. Some have loud shoes on the wood floor. So much shuffling and adjusting. The room’s sounds flow in waves. More than the clicks and hums of human sounds, my anxiety comes from thinking of people who might be bothered by those sounds. I notice that about myself. I breathe. I return to my body. Someone’s stomach gurgles. Someone may be snoring. As the sounds mingle I notice. I notice I can find quiet even in the middle of the clutter careful accidental necessary noises of these friends. My mind is slowing. As each of my to-do items flashes in I welcome it and say, not now, and say, goodbye. As a new column or blog post begins forming, I enjoy playing with the words for a while, then notice my distraction away from the moment. Each moment of distraction, when I am not mindfully resting and seeking the space and light I know I will find in the silence, I don’t fight. I don’t fight the distractions, I only notice them.
Inside me, like the quiet sounds of the other humans around me, there are waves of noise and quiet. Again, a flowing.
As more space opens in me I notice I’m feeling sleepy. Oh, how tired I am. I begin worrying this will be one of those meetings where the struggle to fight sleep is so miserable, I consider leaving (I did leave once). Instead, I adjust my legs and my arms. I bend my head to one side and then the other. I imagine my blood flowing from my heart through my body, especially along my spine, and back into my heart. I catch myself in a deep and possibly loud exhale. It’s okay. We are all here to find the light. The space. The peace.
.

Could be: wrinkled skin, quivery never-plucked too-dark eyebrows, funnel shaped sticking-straight-out ears, awkward closed-mouth smile with lips squinched creating shadows mimicking a moustache, ever-lengthening snarly nostriled hook nose, mismatched odd-shaped eyes, stringy thinning hair pulled back tight causing the appearance of a crew cut, deep dark pits of under-eye circles, shiny spots, desert-dry splotches, absent eyelashes, and moles like pebbles scattered across the pavement.
Or, it could be an attractive woman.
Depends who’s beholding.

No marriage should be “legal.”

I support marriage equality. Adults who love each other and want to commit their lives to each other in the form of a marriage should be able to make such a commitment. All adults should be able to publicly celebrate their love. Marriage, however, should have nothing to do with legality.
Where does it say in the Constitution that the government should decide what kind of marriage is okay and what isn’t? Isn’t marriage a cultural or religious institution? Or, rather, marriage should be a cultural and/or religious institution.
I suspect marriage fell under government regulation when laws were required to control men’s property (a wife and her property)…? I haven’t researched the history of it, but that strikes me as likely.
The government should have no say in what counts as a marriage.
I support marriage equality.

In astronomical terminology, the phrase new moon is the lunar phase that occurs when the Moon, in its monthly orbital motion around Earth, lies between Earth and the Sun, and is therefore in conjunction with the Sun as seen from Earth. At this time, the dark (unilluminated) portion of the Moon faces almost directly toward Earth, so that the Moon is not visible to the naked eye. (wiki)

This post is scheduled to publish on October 7. The calendar tells me there is a new moon that day. After finishing Gift from the Sea just moments ago then diving immediately into The Age of Entanglement, I’m considering such lofty topics as birth, celebration, death, and meaning. In the last couple years, the moon has become important to me. Starting with the ebb and flow of my own biological cycles the moon’s meanings morphed and grew. Most significantly it has become a symbol of the constancy of change. On the day of the new moon, I will celebrate:

  • continuous change
  • omnipresence
  • moving into darkness
  • shape that’s constant no matter what we think we see
  • the connection it creates as a shared vision
  • the interconnectedness of the earth, moon, sun, planets, universe, multi-verse, and the unknown
  • birth
  • death
  • rebirth
  • a steady companion
  • light flooding the darkest night
  • perspective making all the difference in how I see things.

My life is ruled by my emotions, but I have never felt “romantic.” That may be changing. The moon has meaning for me. I’m celebrating today the birth of a new phase. Just like love inside my heart, I don’t have to see it to know it’s there. Through all the change, it will remain.
 

Weeks ago I saw on Facebook that my friend Paula had a birthday. I’ve been off of Facebook for a couple months now, so I didn’t have its handy-dandy little notice that her day was coming up. Turns out she fibbed about her birthday, but it was right around that time. I got to thinking about how I could really wish her a happy birthday. Not just an email (she’s an online-only friend). Not an e-card. Not just “glad you were born!”
For days I constructed a brilliant essay about her. About her and me, of course. It was in my mind for days, then I started writing. Everything I wrote was crap. For weeks, it wasn’t enough. Or it was too gushy. Or it was… well, screw it, I’m going to just tell you now. I wrote about how we met in the newsgroup misc.writing and how she scared the crap out of me. How she was so totally mean that I cried a few times after reading her posts directed at me. How even then I was struck by her open mindedness, her willingness to accept people with very overt and often offensive flaws.
I missed the blogging hey day (hay day?) that happened in the early 2000’s, so I never got to know her in that way. Then, as misc.writing finally and totally collapsed Facebook revived our online world in a new way. That’s when I started to really know her.
Paula is unique in this world. Of course everyone is, but Paula’s unexpected. I kept trying to classify her as… well, you name it, I tried labels on
her and none of them fit. She’s strong, funny, a great writer, a dependable friend, and beautifully honest. She’s gorgeous inside and out, too. She is one of my first friends who doesn’t come from where I’ve been. Our backgrounds are different, our values are frequently different (besides valuing honesty and there are a few other key shared values), our politics are often different (don’t even get me started on how misguided she is about Palestinians!), and she somehow understands the world that is shoe-lust. Shooz, that is. Or has it become sh00z? I think so.
She is herself. It’s what I admire most about her. She may sometimes slide into trying to be something or someway for others, but more than
most people, she stays true to being her. She’s an incredible friend, a solid shoulder when I’ve needed it, and always (did I mention?) honest.

She’s amazing. And, yes, I am very glad she was born.
Happy birthday my dear, sweet friend. Here’s some buttercream just for you.