Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Doubtful, Thankful, Faithful.

Doubt is a tricky thing. It can manifest itself in our lives in a myriad of ways.  Unsure thought, hesitant actions, strained communications, insecurity, depression, anxiety.

It is the mother and child of all these things together. It can be born from any one of those feelings and it can spur random tangents into those areas. It causes them to mix in our stomach and churn the acids there like a raging sea... a monster that claws its way from the bit of your stomach and shoots flames from your throat, breaths despair into every aspect of your life.

Some times the doubt is inherited. Its not a lack of belief in yourself, but a strange gift foisted onto your shoulders by others. Sometimes its their doubt in themselves but projected on to you. Not truly your cross to carry but you shoulder it unconsciously. Sometimes its a burden by proxy,no one really asked you to carry it, but your around it and its yours. You  don't really want to hoist it up and drag it around, but you've picked up along the way and can't remember where you found it and because you've totted it all this way you feel obligated to keep giving it a ride until you find a way to prop it up in the middle of some lost and found closet. You don't really want to let the person who it belongs to struggle under the weight of it, and you surely don't want to dump it  or shake it loose so that it lands in the middle of the highway like a piece of ill secured furniture on moving day. It will cause an emotional pile up for everyone else... so you drag it a lil' farther up the road looking for a safe place to pull on to the shoulder and dump it like an unwanted puppy after Christmas. Praying that maybe it finds a way to that farm house were those nice people will surely welcome it and help it work itself out, but if not prayeful it will survive on its own in the open fields of milo and hay and not run into the middle of the highway and get hit.

Thanks are just as sticky as doubts... sometimes thankful isn't really THANKFUL...its more like grudged acceptance.  We all have those moment where we are forced to acknowledge that our lot in life isn't as bad as someone else's. But can we be honest... don't we all have those moments were frankly that's not our concern. OK, ok, sure we could be the one legged veteran who is on the street panhandling for crusts of bread. But be truthful...how often do we see those people and sneer, "freeloaders" " tax evaders"  "if i just gave up and was like the I could probably make a mint." "I read an article about panhandlers that grossed 6 figures standing on corners looking like bums."  and "damn good scam if you ask me".

I mean really WHEN are we TRULY thankful for all that we have... all that has been given to us in abundance. WHO among us is THANKFUL FOR THE STORM when its raining and not just when it has passed and the sun is shinning on us.  THANKFUL isn't always THANKFUL... some times its a desperate plea for a reprieve  "Please, SIR, may I have another."
Thankful, isn't always a joyous celebration, but a solemn acceptance. Its sportsmanship when you've come in second instead of first. You really want the blue ribbon, but you dutifully tip your chin after having ducked your head to steady your trembling lip and smile brightly at for the crowd when in side your heart is still racing and your soul quivers in uneasy defeat. You tell yourself it wasn't LAST place, but you hear the taunts resound , "yeah, but it ain't first either". Stuck in the middle. Thankfully ungratefully. Begrudgingly satisfied, unhappily content.

Faithful isn't always faithful.  Some times faithful is just resigned.
Its not the stead fast HOPE in a better tomorrow.  But the realization that the present goes on unerringly with out end. There isn't always that refreshing fortification in bright new days. Just the understanding that tomorrow is already today and today is already yesterday.  It is now as it always  was, as it always will be.

doubtful, thankful and faithful.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Thoughts on A Grey Day

I'm settled on the couch with my laptop, both dogs, a 24oz coffee, a pillow and a blanket. I can hear the wind-chimes tinkling in the tree outside my front door. I've turned the window units off for the first time since we moved into this little house and its quiet. Country silence, no voices, no cars just the wind the electric hum of the ceiling fans and my fingers tapping against the keys.  The day is blustery, cold and grey. You wouldn't believe that only a couple of days ago the temperature was in the triple digits.  If I weren't sick I'd get up and dress for a tail gate.. A pair of well worn but fitted jeans and a t-shirt, the cable knit sweater from that guy I dated once and decided I like his sweater better than I actually liked him  and my favorite boots. Well, probably my favorite trainers because the boots I'd have pulled on were lost/stolen on a trip to San Antonio almost a decade ago.

I'm soaking in all the well wishes from friends and family. Their positive energy and cautious baby fever makes me smile. LOL I think a few people are actually ready to go "surprise adopt" a baby for me.  I love that they are invested in our happiness emotionally. A sense of community and well being spreads through me.   My mind tells me this is not yet our time, but I can't help but be swept up in their hope. Even CWB left a lingering hand on my tummy before he kissed my head on his way out the door to work. "Be nice to mommy today, she doesn't feel good." he spoke ostensibly to the dogs, but the warmth of his hand told me exactly where his true thoughts lie.

I've talked to my little sister, her antics make me smile even though she called in a moment that I was choking back tears. The way she hops around with so much energy both rejuvenates and drains me. I wonder if that's what my older sisters saw in me. Boundless energy, hope, possibilities, mischief, excitement, love. I wonder if I've lost that or if it just packed away on this rainy, grey day.

Don't get me wrong. I love rainy, grey days. I often think I should have been born in London rather than Lubbock. The cool misty wind suites me more than the blistering heat and dust. An Island in the sea rather than a desert or painted sand. Oh, I love Texas, but I can't wait to leave. Ready to test that theory about absence and fondness.  To see if I can hold all the beauty in my mind and relay it some stranger with enough conviction to make them wan to trek back the thousand miles to see for themselves.

I should be tweeting something.. but hey...I've done that all week when I only really need to do it three days. I can afford a day off.   I should be writing something, besides this blog.  And maybe I will later.  I should be trying to eat something other than Saltines or Ritz. Drink something other than flat sprite and coffee. Do something other than scroll through Netflix, Amazon and Facebook.

 I really should address the issue of a person who has infiltrated my sanctuary and harmed one of my precious minions  devotees followers worshipers friends.  Yeah, friends is the word I am looking for. I have been formulating in my mind the way to call this person on to the carpet.  Should I be all Goddess on high appearing to a trembling mortal, Executive power player calling an employee in for a quarterly NEGATIVE review, angry big sister protecting the shy bashful sweet heart-ed sibling.  Should I humiliate and shame her as I am want to do. No, I'll wait. The silence, in light of the egregiousness,  will take care of all that I wish for me. I don't want to appear weak. Any leader will tell you "the appearance of weakness is weakness itself".  But I am sending a total message that " Here in this realm, we are so strong, your pithy little antics, while they register in the field of our attention, mean naught but the mild sting of a mosquito on the skin of an elephant"  or as my grandmother would say "one monkey don't stop no show".

I wonder how many people are going to email me and ask me if that ^^^^^ is actually about them. There are a couple fringe floater that it could apply to lmao.

I should call someone, but the thought of a human voice actually grates on my nerves like a Styrofoam cooler against a tailgate. Not that I don't want to hear from folks-- I just don't want to "hear" from folks. And the act of speaking makes my throat prickle like fire.  I'm annoyed at the imagined conversations. The feigning of appreciative tact that I just don't have the energy to contrive. "Yes, actually, I am aware that I am sick more than any other person you know. Yes, I should have a doctor check me out, your absolutely correct. The team of personnel I've been seeing since birth is obviously incompetent and your laymen's diagnosis is absolutely exactly what I suffer from. No, I had no idea you'd had the exact same ailments but different and were cured with milk of magnesia and cow chip tea. Oh yes, I hear they are making a Drea sized bubble this year. I am on the waiting list for one for of those."   * I actually made myself smile with that, I'd laugh if it didn't hurt.  I should be and actually am really grateful for all those conversations. But really people, sometimes a chic is just sick. Say feel better and move on lol.*

No, no.. today I am gonna blog randomly.  Sleep and enjoy the sweet earth scented air. Today I am going to be sick, play hooky ( sorta)  and not worry about what I SHOULD be doing.   Probably gonna dry heave some more. Yeah, dry heaving is defo on the schedule *wish I could get rid of that particular event , but the other option is eating enough to actually PUKE and that is so not on*.
Gonna email a couple of people. And hope they don't take that as a "call me right now".
And then I'll read back over this blog obsessively to see if my words came out the way I wanted them to.
Not that I'll ever correct them if they didn't.
And I'll think that I shouldn't wait so long between blogs.
And that I really have a lot of thoughts for it being a grey, thoughtless kind of day.