some nights should be held close in a snow globe, words swirling around gently like flakes, settling down after a while; clarity left visible in the stillness. we rest together in the peace and comfort of truths spoken out loud as the glass slowly fogs to opaque. the bottles empty. the cd changes. the words pick up again, shaking out our world with more truth, more flakes catching the flicker of the ferries passing by in the rain.
but the real victory is, for perhaps the very first time, the words not ready to be spoken, truths not ripe to be understood, rest patiently in the spaces between the now still snowflakes. they are comfortable knowing that one day they too will be tossed into the air and allowed to give voice to the life already lived out between us.
one day. not today.
until then, some nights, we should hold each other close inside a snow globe, care swirling around gently like flakes, settling down after a while; love left visible in the stillness.
11.24.2012
11.21.2012
11.13.2012
not running
if i had just registered in time for the half marathon on october 27th, i wouldn't be here forced to make an obvious decision. i would be on the other side of the race now with whatever significant thing that is left in one's hands after a physical test is passed. if i had registered in time i'd be done. victorious. fulfilled.
but i didn't. and last wednesday, a week and a half before my second-choice date {registration safely completely long ago}, my right foot started aching. it was a weird sort of ache, something stretching seemed to have a temporary effect on—annoying but not painful. so the next day i ran my 5 miles and spent the rest of the night limping in what was now something to pay attention to.
so i took it seriously but firmly held on to the goal of running on the 17th. i iced. i stretched. i went to the chiropractor twice in one week. i practiced yoga. i stayed off the foot and iced some more. and it was working. today, less than a week later the ache was quieter now than when it first appeared. things were looking up. my chiropractor hadn't said no yet and was even still saying might and could.
but this afternoon found me face down on the table in his office as he so very gently tore through the painful muscles and ligaments up and down my right side, enumerating all the factors that have added up to one sore foot: adrenal fatigue and stress to the body {training for three months}, not sleeping enough {guilty}, mental/emotional stress {in spades} and chemical imbalance {see mental/emotional stress for easy justification of indulging my usually in check sweet tooth}. now an increase of any one or two of the above would have been fine, but all of them combined was the perfect storm. so here i am, waves of reality crashing against me as i cling to my life raft called hope. hope to run, hope to achieve. hope to find something out there in the race to hold on to right now.
and in the quiet of the chiropractor's office, as we both concentrated on listening to what my body was saying, a few simple, obvious questions bobbed to the surface right under my nose: if i ran this weekend, why? and how could whatever i have in my hands after the race possibly be worth more than my longterm health and recovery?
yes, i'm aware that i'm not being asked to give up the olympics or a chance to qualify for the {insert prestigious name} marathon, but this isn't about the rest of the world or its standards, but about me and my life, my goals. me. i am drawing to a close one of the more intense years of my life, hoping to transition into a new decade with ease and strength. the past three months of focused training have helped me move toward that end. they have helped me find a physical fitness i have always longed for and a slimness i always doubted i could achieve. and above and beyond anything, the time, the focus, the goal, it was all for me. about me. in my life that is so busy, very little of it is actually about me. it's about earning money, making art, connecting with others, writing emails, sending postcards, preserving and understanding moments, cleaning my apartment. the list goes on. it's exhausting sometimes to think about it.
so the pressure to run isn't just because i'm a completionist, and the disappointment in the face of losing this chance isn't just about crossing a finish line. it's not just about about the act or the proof that i really have achieved the physical and mental space needed to run a solid race—it's about the surprises the test would bring, the discoveries i know i would make. in not running on saturday, i am losing one of those rare opportunities to live at the very edge of myself at a moment in my life so marked by a strange blend of transition and grief and progress. my first half marathon {posted here} still features largely in my personal narrative, and this time i am so much more prepared, so much more ready to focus all 13.1 miles, push myself harder. more than anything, i wanted to see what is out there at this particular moment of my life, what is just beyond my sight and understanding of myself, and most importantly learn what she has to teach me.
but if i have learned anything this year, it's that sometimes the strongest decision is to embrace the imperfections of the moment rather than plowing boldly {and occasionally recklessly} on toward what my brain/ego/hope/optimism sees as possible. so here, with you standing in for the friends i had {rather vulnerably} asked to stand along the race course for me, you invisible, silent witnesses are cheering me away from the route i should not run.
i surrender the race, surrender the hope, surrender the experience and insight and epiphany i might have had for a cost i am deciding i cannot afford: my body.
my body. my hope. my soft machine. you have carried me so far, so fast. i will give you the rest you ask for and we will try again soon. we will try again soon.
---------------------
on the topic of milestones, this is my 900th post.
but i didn't. and last wednesday, a week and a half before my second-choice date {registration safely completely long ago}, my right foot started aching. it was a weird sort of ache, something stretching seemed to have a temporary effect on—annoying but not painful. so the next day i ran my 5 miles and spent the rest of the night limping in what was now something to pay attention to.
so i took it seriously but firmly held on to the goal of running on the 17th. i iced. i stretched. i went to the chiropractor twice in one week. i practiced yoga. i stayed off the foot and iced some more. and it was working. today, less than a week later the ache was quieter now than when it first appeared. things were looking up. my chiropractor hadn't said no yet and was even still saying might and could.
but this afternoon found me face down on the table in his office as he so very gently tore through the painful muscles and ligaments up and down my right side, enumerating all the factors that have added up to one sore foot: adrenal fatigue and stress to the body {training for three months}, not sleeping enough {guilty}, mental/emotional stress {in spades} and chemical imbalance {see mental/emotional stress for easy justification of indulging my usually in check sweet tooth}. now an increase of any one or two of the above would have been fine, but all of them combined was the perfect storm. so here i am, waves of reality crashing against me as i cling to my life raft called hope. hope to run, hope to achieve. hope to find something out there in the race to hold on to right now.
and in the quiet of the chiropractor's office, as we both concentrated on listening to what my body was saying, a few simple, obvious questions bobbed to the surface right under my nose: if i ran this weekend, why? and how could whatever i have in my hands after the race possibly be worth more than my longterm health and recovery?
yes, i'm aware that i'm not being asked to give up the olympics or a chance to qualify for the {insert prestigious name} marathon, but this isn't about the rest of the world or its standards, but about me and my life, my goals. me. i am drawing to a close one of the more intense years of my life, hoping to transition into a new decade with ease and strength. the past three months of focused training have helped me move toward that end. they have helped me find a physical fitness i have always longed for and a slimness i always doubted i could achieve. and above and beyond anything, the time, the focus, the goal, it was all for me. about me. in my life that is so busy, very little of it is actually about me. it's about earning money, making art, connecting with others, writing emails, sending postcards, preserving and understanding moments, cleaning my apartment. the list goes on. it's exhausting sometimes to think about it.
so the pressure to run isn't just because i'm a completionist, and the disappointment in the face of losing this chance isn't just about crossing a finish line. it's not just about about the act or the proof that i really have achieved the physical and mental space needed to run a solid race—it's about the surprises the test would bring, the discoveries i know i would make. in not running on saturday, i am losing one of those rare opportunities to live at the very edge of myself at a moment in my life so marked by a strange blend of transition and grief and progress. my first half marathon {posted here} still features largely in my personal narrative, and this time i am so much more prepared, so much more ready to focus all 13.1 miles, push myself harder. more than anything, i wanted to see what is out there at this particular moment of my life, what is just beyond my sight and understanding of myself, and most importantly learn what she has to teach me.
but if i have learned anything this year, it's that sometimes the strongest decision is to embrace the imperfections of the moment rather than plowing boldly {and occasionally recklessly} on toward what my brain/ego/hope/optimism sees as possible. so here, with you standing in for the friends i had {rather vulnerably} asked to stand along the race course for me, you invisible, silent witnesses are cheering me away from the route i should not run.
i surrender the race, surrender the hope, surrender the experience and insight and epiphany i might have had for a cost i am deciding i cannot afford: my body.
my body. my hope. my soft machine. you have carried me so far, so fast. i will give you the rest you ask for and we will try again soon. we will try again soon.
---------------------
on the topic of milestones, this is my 900th post.
11.07.2012
celebrate
counting. sweeping. killing. the new is finally here. history made. remade. the next chance. restart. more words. more commitment. strength. truth. confetti. so we danced in the street, drank from paper bags we passed around, hit balloons, blew bubbles, found friends, hugged strangers, smiled large, and held the world closer in the moment when it was all decided.
again.
for the record, i was scared, but never doubted. hope never doubts. it's too pure. too clean. too bright. so let it shine a light forward and celebrate.
again.
for the record, i was scared, but never doubted. hope never doubts. it's too pure. too clean. too bright. so let it shine a light forward and celebrate.
11.05.2012
atoms for peace
atoms for peace - thom yorke
no more going to the dark side with your flying saucer eyes
no more falling down a wormhole that i have to pull you out
the wriggling, squiggling worm inside
devours from the inside out
no more talk about the old days
it's time for something great
i want you to get out
and make it work
so many lies
so many lies
so many lies
so feel the love come off of them
and take me in your arms
peel all of your layers off
i want to eat your artichoke heart
no more leaky holes in your brain
and no false starts
i wanna get out
and make it work
so many lies
so many lies
so many lies
so feel the love come off of them
and take me in your arms
i wanna get out
and make it work
i want you to get out
and make it work
i'll be ok
so many lies
so many lies
so many lies
so feel the love come off of them
and take me in your arms
11.02.2012
word.
relationships are the battleground where we fight for what version of ourselves we become: honest or deceptive, independent or lazy. they reflect all of our potential and all of our weaknesses at the same time...when you start a relationship, you always have ideas about how the other person will broaden your horizon and lift you up, but truthfully a relationship will always redefine itself around the level of its greatest weakness.
-the tobolowsky files
-the tobolowsky files
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