Breathe Easy.
Laugh Hard.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Perfect Thursday
My perfect Thursday would begin with a gentle whisper, a soft caress of my cheek, and the brush of my husband’s lips across my forehead. The heady scent of our favorite coffee brewing carries up the bedroom stairs and lingers over my gradually waking senses. Stretching long and lithely, I would prop my head up on two downy pillows and reach over to discover my alarm clock had never been set for the a.m. hours.
Sleepily brushing the last remnants of dreams from my eyes I would turn to my husband for a good morning kiss only to find him crawling back into bed. He’s called in sick. Curling up in his arms, I happily grasp the reality that for today, if only for today, we have no agenda, no task list, no calendar to fill or meetings to attend. For today, our only obligations are to sleep, laugh, and love.
Sleepily brushing the last remnants of dreams from my eyes I would turn to my husband for a good morning kiss only to find him crawling back into bed. He’s called in sick. Curling up in his arms, I happily grasp the reality that for today, if only for today, we have no agenda, no task list, no calendar to fill or meetings to attend. For today, our only obligations are to sleep, laugh, and love.
A Crisis of Heart
For the past week, I've struggled to maintain something resembling sanity. At a moment when I least expected it, Life grabbed my shoulders and threw me to the ground in a block that would make even Brian Urlacher wince. My stomach rejected food. My eyes ran from sleep. And my mind... Ah, that tricky little thing. My mind won countless virtual gold medals for each of the myriad mental gymnastics meets I held for a week straight.
Why did I put myself through such anguish, such torture? A crisis of heart. For what seems like the 9th or perhaps 10th time in my relatively brief life, I couldn't understand where I am going. I'm one of those few unfortunate souls who, try as I might, cannot subscribe to a lifelong career without - brace yourself for that ugly, demoralizing, shouldbeafourletterwordifitweren'tforthethreeextraletters word - passion. Financial successes, respect, even sporadic happiness has only temporarily distracted me from what I would otherwise love to forget. I need meaning. I need to feel that what I do is unique to me. Is my own. I need to know I can write sentences with only one word and if that's what I feel, then that's truth. I need to be able to answer the canned high school reunion career question with a passion and pride that I what I do is not just a job but a vocation. There's only one small problem with all of this...
...I don't know what I want to do.
Why did I put myself through such anguish, such torture? A crisis of heart. For what seems like the 9th or perhaps 10th time in my relatively brief life, I couldn't understand where I am going. I'm one of those few unfortunate souls who, try as I might, cannot subscribe to a lifelong career without - brace yourself for that ugly, demoralizing, shouldbeafourletterwordifitweren'tforthethreeextraletters word - passion. Financial successes, respect, even sporadic happiness has only temporarily distracted me from what I would otherwise love to forget. I need meaning. I need to feel that what I do is unique to me. Is my own. I need to know I can write sentences with only one word and if that's what I feel, then that's truth. I need to be able to answer the canned high school reunion career question with a passion and pride that I what I do is not just a job but a vocation. There's only one small problem with all of this...
...I don't know what I want to do.
Friday, August 17, 2007
So long
So long
Too high, too hard
Wave off
Unwilling, unable
Going back to the lip of light
When my lashes bloom open
Soaking in the
One (breathe)
Two (breathe)
Three
First lights of fresh, crisp morning
Creaking the muscles
Ripe with yesterday’s memory
Aching to begin
Again
Too high, too hard
Wave off
Unwilling, unable
Going back to the lip of light
When my lashes bloom open
Soaking in the
One (breathe)
Two (breathe)
Three
First lights of fresh, crisp morning
Creaking the muscles
Ripe with yesterday’s memory
Aching to begin
Again
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Yesterday's Run
I ran yesterday. I did it because my legs are still underneath me and my breath is still in my lungs. For no other reason than that did I lace up my running shoes, throw on my iPod (complete with one of the audiobooks to which I have recently found myself addicted), and trot from the driveway of my semi-urban home. For anyone interested, my current tome of choice is Bergdorf Blondes. Despite my need to finish it, I wouldn't recommend it. I would, however, recommend my last audiobook - Everyone Worth Knowing. Not exactly the next Pulitzer winner, but definitely a great long run listen.
As I ran, I was struck by the lack of familiarity I had for my neighborhood. No...not my neighborhood. My neighbors. It takes me no more than 3 seconds to count the number of neighbors I have met since I and my phenomenal husband (no, I'm not biased. Why would you ask?) moved into our home almost 2 years ago. Is this anonymity a thing of permanence or a phase our culture is going through? Growing up, I knew all of my neighbors. Not just from my immediate block but for at least a two block radius. I knew them not only by name but by smell, habits, lawns, everything. I knew who gave great candy on Halloween and who gave a Saran wrapped packet of 5 pennies. Yes, someone actually thought that was a novel idea. They had no idea the pennies turned into violent projectiles launched by me and my brother, Tim, against our peacefully sleeping older brothers.
But I digress. I'm still trying to figure out the focus of this blog and will slowly stretch and work out the kinks as I write. Please continue to read and bear with me as I try to find my writing legs over the coming weeks. While these first entries may not bear much promise, my promise is that they will improve. Just believe.
As I ran, I was struck by the lack of familiarity I had for my neighborhood. No...not my neighborhood. My neighbors. It takes me no more than 3 seconds to count the number of neighbors I have met since I and my phenomenal husband (no, I'm not biased. Why would you ask?) moved into our home almost 2 years ago. Is this anonymity a thing of permanence or a phase our culture is going through? Growing up, I knew all of my neighbors. Not just from my immediate block but for at least a two block radius. I knew them not only by name but by smell, habits, lawns, everything. I knew who gave great candy on Halloween and who gave a Saran wrapped packet of 5 pennies. Yes, someone actually thought that was a novel idea. They had no idea the pennies turned into violent projectiles launched by me and my brother, Tim, against our peacefully sleeping older brothers.
But I digress. I'm still trying to figure out the focus of this blog and will slowly stretch and work out the kinks as I write. Please continue to read and bear with me as I try to find my writing legs over the coming weeks. While these first entries may not bear much promise, my promise is that they will improve. Just believe.
Monday, May 29, 2006
A Beautiful Beginning
Beginnings are inspiring. They are pregnant with the unknown and flush with possibilities. Stepping on to the gravel path this morning, I felt the rush that only accompanies the inauguration of a new journey. Four miles later and one more run complete, I knew I was still just at the beginning...
Enjoy your day. Smile because you mean it and be kind because it is truly who you are.
Enjoy your day. Smile because you mean it and be kind because it is truly who you are.
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