on feeling lucky...

I woke up minutes before he did, and was lucky enough to simply watch him breath. I could tell he was still dreaming by the small movements his eyes insisted on making underneath his delicate eyelids. I can still see the scar made by my fingernail on his left eye, when I scratched his brand new skin which was only a few hours old, the branding of a new mother, if you will. I notice that his hair has grown long already and wonder if it's possible that he has grown 3 inches in as many months. How did we both get here? I watch him lay still, because it's such a novel thing, to see my energetic son, who moves at the speed of light leaving a trail of giggles and dirt, remain peaceful and still. His eyes wince open too soon and he sighs, arching into me, ceding dreams to daytime. He blinks and watches me, strangely wordless, and I wonder, for a brief moment, if my whole life was designed to lead me to that moment. It had to be, yet how could it be. We stretch and start the day.

 ********************

We ache and groan and lace up our skates because at this point, each practice is another mile closer to the end of a long marathon season. We have intentions of showing up consistently, but fatigue, families and injuries have gotten the best of us, yet we show up when we can, embattled warriors. We are tired. We are over committed and we have sacrificed so many things to be here; most of which are owed to the ones we love. But there are new skaters to train and a coach to respect and a vow to keep to one another. It is one of those things you continue to do when you love a sport. So we show up. And once we are warmed up and our aches fade away, we allow ourselves the opportunity to leave stress behind, sometimes only for minutes at a time. We pull one another, we push one another, we skate, stop, break, jump and we trust one another. When you trust one another, you take risks and allow yourself to be great. I know my derby sisters feel the same because I see it in their eyes that meet mine during a break or across the track and I feel connected to them in ways that I will never quite be able to let go and I wonder, for another brief moment, how in the world I am ever going to give this up. Yet somehow I have to, maybe not now, but soon.

********************

I wander through my house, silently, and silently note that it still doesn't always feel like it's mine. It is frequently empty, sometimes noisy, always messy but full of life and full of things I have chosen for myself but I still sometimes feel disconnected from it all. I look at this new life that I have carefully yet unconsciously crafted for myself in two short years. I used to be a wife. Now I am not.  However I remain connected to many other things, things that matter.  There is a small-ish house with painted cinder blocks and strange angles that has heard laughter and music and felt love greater than I thought possible at this point in my life. There is a vehicle I have always wanted to own, which really costs me too much money, but certainly soothes my soul and gives me a sense of autonomy that was missing for many years. There is a backyard with a tree that is ripe for climbing and a garden where I might one day plant roots and a giant tree out front that will one day house a swing. There is a dream job that I usually end up figuring out, on most days, albeit with lots of coffee, support from colleagues and a sense of humour. And there are friends who have become the family that I have gotten to choose. And lately I wonder, even on the loneliest of nights, how I ever got so lucky in life.

on bullshit...

I read something online today about letting go and trusting that good things will, one day, come my way. It resonated because I have a hard time with that. I want to believe that amazing things are in my future. But I dont always believe that I will live life as richly and profoundly as I have once have. My life has never been perfect, in fact it's been full of glorious highs and devastating lows. While I don't miss the lows, those highs, oh, they were so sweet. Does one have to be present to will the other into existence? I have known what it is like to feel intoxicated by the smell of a street in Russia, by the look of a new lover across a crowded bar, or by the sound of children tap dancing shirtless in New Orleans in July. As I type these words, the hairs stand up on my arms, because I remember feeling so vividly alive, in those moments. Life has changed dramatically in 2 years. I am still lucky, but in a different way. In a calmer, gentler way...which doesn't involve my life's previous highs nor does it contain those lows. I have blogged about it previously (in another life) wondering if it was possible that the universe had positioned me in a 'leveling out' phase of life because I have had too much awesome, too much luck, too much grace for my mere 38 years on this planet. Bullshit. 

***
I spend alot of time alone. I don't mind being alone, it's a nice change. I am learning to appreciate my own company. I think it's an acquired taste for most of us. Until recently, I didn't know much about my recent self. Now I do. I have changed alot in some ways, but remain rooted in my past, in fundamental ways. But it's easy, alone at 3am, to get caught up in your own ethos. It's human nature to believe your own bullshit and not question beliefs, plans and values. I do it frequently, until life offers me chance encounters whereing I get talk or correspond with someone truly amazing. And it always makes me question everything I have ever believed. I usually land in about the same place, but for a short period, a single individual's words, or gaze, or laugh...occupies everything in the world. I draw them in and draw myself out, for a brief period, sometimes minutes, sometimes days, sometimes months...but I always find my way back again only slightly different, in subtle ways. I would like to believe that a dozen or so people have fundamentally altered my perception about myself and the world and I would thank them for that, if I could. Only I wont, because it would be awkward and strange. Bullshit. 

***

As I walk through town on a cold Thursday, as I wander across the street for a hot cup of coffee, as I stroll through the market on Saturday, will my eyes rest on someone amazing? How many amazing people do I already know? Am I seeing them as they wish to be seen? Can that ever change? Will we reach for the same bunch of bananas and feel electricity in the air? Will I read a tweet over coffee that will stay with me for days? Will I catch a sideways glance at the gas station as we are both waiting to pay and buy milk? Will I stop believing my own bulllshit and actually stand open, ready to meet amazing people and allow life to once again have those intoxicating highs which I long for? Are those highs really productive or just childish fantasies that I have created in my mind? Will I stop analyzing past present and future people with a view figuring it all out? Will I admit that I am a creature of my own bullshit, no more, no less and am beautiful and flawed and capable of so much more life, if I just stop bullshitting myself? Bullshit? Hard to tell.