In Tune

When we are in tune with ourselves, everything around us just seems to sound better... but how does it happen?

It's that inner peace we all struggle to achieve.
The right page when we always seem to be one ahead or two behind.
The self acceptance that some how inevitably gets interrupted by self doubt and insecurities.

But maybe it can all come together. Maybe our emotions are in-sync, and the soundtrack finally fits the day it lands on.

It's a perfect symphony that took years of patient, gentle, careful practice, fine tuning, and the right timing to get all the sounds to harmonize.

It is no accident. It is no coincidence.
It is the result of patience, persistence, hope, and love.

I finally hear this beautiful melody, and I don't think my ears will ever tire of the sound.

The descent

Sundays will forever hold a special place in my heart.
Between blue-skied boat days with Dad, and sitting around the Pflug's dinner table with the only real family I've ever known, it easily became my favorite day of the week.
Today is the first Sunday of September, and everything feels so right outside this morning. . .

There's a bird that keeps circling around the biggest tree in my backyard. The limbs of it keep wiggling in the wind, and I watch as he let's himself fall into the breeze and ride it; wings spread taking in this new September air.

It's that moment of calm I felt yesterday that made me smile as I hoped it would become I feeling I might come to know more often. It was during my bike ride; the leisurely, casual bike ride I couldn't resist taking down to Princeton when I walked out with my keys in my hand and saw my beg practically begging for me in the sunlight.

It's funny how much further away that Starbucks became with a heavy bag slung over my shoulder, humidity sticking my denim to my legs, and the undeniable fact that there were suddenly a lot more hills en route than I remember.

 Ok, so maybe there weren't, but my legs and my shortness of breath were evident that I really could have just taken the drive with the windows down.

Forty-five minutes later, I parked my bike at Starbucks. I put myself together in the bathroom, and promised myself to enjoy my coffee, and my lunch plans, and not spend the day dreading the ride home.

I didn't.
I actually forgot about it until saying goodbye, and trying to recall the combination for my lock. I started off with my ipod, switched hip-hop for Dave, and took my time pedaling to the music.

Before the end of " Crash," I realized the whole ride was downhill.

I flipped my sunglasses down and held my arms out, palms up, and let my legs enjoy the rest and put my smile to work.

That was it. . .

My whole life, I've been fighting and struggling up that hill. For years, life made it so steep I thought I'd start slipping backward; I stood up and pedaled stronger.

In the lull between inclines, I inadvertently cranked up my gears to keep that challenge, to maintain my momentum, to motivate myself through the next push.

Somewhere during those years of innocence, I stopped looking for the top; I couldn't. I think a part of me forgot that it might exist, and just hoped I would have the energy to fight another day, every day. One day stronger, one day closer, to something that I never even knew, but I couldn't wait to experience; the end of the climb.

Here it is.

Suddenly, I'm coasting through and instead of focusing on the climb, I can finally enjoy this ride. 

Today, feels different. The sky, yep, still blue.

My stomach is already growling for dinner at the Pflugs.

 And it will be, yet another Sunday, with no boat, and no Dad. 

But today, finally, that feels...ok.

I made it to the other side, and I know that today is his gift to me to tell me how proud he is for chugging along with out him. Today, is the most beautiful Sunday because it begins my descent, and it's leading me to love;It's leading me home.

Listen with all your heart

Most people are pretty active when they engage in conversation. It is in that nod- along-and-pretend-to-understand sort of way, that so many of us do with out even realizing it. Our minds are so preoccupied creating these menial, mental post-it notes that, before any talking even takes place, our mind's are already elsewhere.

I was well aware of this before I started bartending, but three years later, my acknowledgment to people's inability to listen has grown from a casual realization, to a potential epidemic.

We all want to be heard, right? Yet how often we interrupt, revert conversation to ourselves, change the subject, or completely disregard and ignore what someone is trying to say?

 It's really easy to hear someone, but when was the last time you listened? Really listened to some one attempting to put their life experience into verbiage. It's not an easy thing to do, and I always admire the attempt. Whether it's a lonely person behind a beer bottle, or the manager of Jiffy Lube desperate to share the story of his friend's battle with cancer. We're all so busy listening to our busy brains, we miss so many moments to let some one be heard.

You know because you realize that people hear you all day, but you have an exhausted feeling of competing for words; competing to put in your thoughts and opinions.

There's an amazing silence between sentences. An understanding between words, between breaths. A gentle acceptance exchanged with out any verbal agreement. Offering your thoughts and emotions to someone because they're listening. It's a comfort that not many people get the chance to enjoy, or worse, perhaps they do daily, but they take those volunteered ears for granted.

But when it's mutual; when two people really dedicate themselves to listening, an amazing relationship is instantly born. I think it's called listening with your heart. . .
It is an inherently rare quality, but there are some out there that posses it.

 The catch is, you have to be listening with your heart too, or you won't hear anything....

When you do, suddenly, the competition has diminished. The awkward dance of dressing up your words to try to interest someone is over. You've found someone that doesn't hear your words, they listen.

It's like they've decoded your language, and suddenly you can't help but tell them all your secrets that have been aching to be heard.

Because at the end of the day... aren't we all just aching to be heard?

The Leap

I'd say insecurities pretty much come with the territory that is life. Some cry louder than others, some fester and grow, while others are ignored and shrink. Regardless, we all have our doubts, or uncertainties about our attributes, attitudes, relationships, life choices, careers, and  of course, our appearance.


A lot of insecurities can be paralyzing. They can restrain us from so many things leaving us " wishing" we could say what we wanted to say, do what we really wanted to do, or act a way that wasn't premeditated and calculated, and was just...real. 


With no worry of judging eyes, or strangers whispers or obscene opinions. The sad part is that "idea" is probably just that to so many. A blissful idea of a reality they'll never believe can actually exist. 


I wonder how many people wish that they didn't need to rationalize, and justify, and explain why they were doing what they're doing because they finally grasped the idea that approval just isn't always necessary. 


I've taken my share of stumbles, in modest terms that's a whole lot of straight face-plant-in-the-dirt-kick-me-when-I'm-down moments in my life; literally probably too many for me to even count, but I survived it.


No matter how many times I've done it, risked it, lost it all, won a little, I'll never lose my courage, ever. I'll never be too scared to take that risk or that chance. 


That this is my life, and I want to live it with confidence, and not let my urges to second-guess and cross-check myself create an obstacle for me to take control of what I want to do and where I want to go.


It's really easy to sit in the passenger seat and watch the scenery go by. But I've never really been the passive type. I'd rather be the one to decide where I'm going. 


This year, I've learned to shut my mouth, shrug my shoulders, and trust my gut. . . I have a safety net that hasn't failed me yet. <3 Guess it's time to take that leap

If we knew then....

At some point, in the frustration of trying to explain ourselves, rationalize our behaviors, justify our thoughts, and articulate our true feelings, we start to wish we had someone that  just knew.


That just knew how we felt,
 that understood what we were thinking, 
and could offer us that safe place where we could trust our true self, heart exposed, with no judgement to be passed. 


That person that could hear everything you DIDN'T say, and could tell you anything you didn't want to hear because you would value their truth more than anything else because sometimes, most times, they prove to know you better than you know yourself.


That person that knew you before you grew up; before we learned to filter and censor and suffer and withdraw. Those days when we acted with out thinking about consequences, and the people that were truly attracted to our inner beauty before life could take over and complicate things. 


Before we knew how to protect ourselves, and build up our defenses... When we let people in accidentally, before we learned what being vulnerable meant. 


The beautiful, simplified friendship that grew up before we could really cherish it the way we would have wished to.


The one you knew was so special then, but has only become more special in hindsight. The friend you never took for granted, but that you never feel like you could ever satisfy your gratitude toward, because to this day you still think of them and smile for the place they will forever hold in your heart.  You're still learning from them, and you know you'll never stop.


The friend that you know would be there, anywhere, wherever life leads you, if you should ever need them. When time and distance are just irrelevant because it will never dissipate the comfort of your friendship.


Maybe it's a tiny period of time in our life that we're really able to make those true life long friends. . . I'm so lucky to have made mine. My compass through this crazy journey I can't imagine with anyone else. 


<3 AP
<3 AI ( thanks for the inspiration)

goosebumps and smiles

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVI254QGSQ4

Boarding Pass

You fill me with wonder,

and I file through security.

I am holding my breath...

and a boarding pass,

regretting every step I take.

My ticket scanned.

My belt is buckled,

and I feel my emotions swell

stuck between two strangers

in this

stale

air.

I feel so tiny

up above you.


I am heading east

as the sun moves west,

to color this distance

that seperates us.

Again.

We are descending  from these clouds

and I feel torn in two.

Now my body is in New Jersey,

but my heart is still

with you.

the unexpected compliment

I was washing glasses when he sat down at the bar.
When I walked in that day, he told me he had to "speak at me" later and I just nodded in confusion. Guess it was time...

He's only been my manager for six months, but I guess our late night talks and my baking skills have scored me a place in his eyes that warrants a brother-like protection and constant concern over my well-being.

Reaching the end, of what felt like an end-less Summer, I guess the dust has settled and he's realizing that my short-term contract is unofficially expiring.

He started by telling me that he knows I don't have family in New Jersey, but that that has changed. He assured me that I now have, and will always have a place that will welcome me any day, and a family that will treat me as my own.

He said he hopes that his little sister grows up to be a quarter as cool as I am, and I laughed in nervousness. His fIattery continued, but I just stared at the water in the sink. .  . I couldn't make eye contact with him because of the tears in my eyes.

He told me how proud he is of me, and all that I have over-come, and managed to accomplish in spite of. I shrugged my shoulders, only to catch his glare of oh-so-seriousness. I laughed, and then nodded and returned my best serious face I could put on.

I thanked him. and then I thanked him again. I told him he carried me through a really difficult transition, and he assured me that it was his absolute pleasure.

I'm still in awe.

Thank you Kharma.

Cicadas

I’m on my porch, having dinner with the sky. Staring at the clouds, wishing I could see a single star through them.

I can smell the cigarette my neighbor is smoking, but we haven’t said hello to each other.

The light from the kitchen is just barely enough to let me see what my fork skewers, as my phone chimes for attention with messages from my Mother.

She’s upset, and so am I … I’m trying to figure out why.

I’m alone in Rocky Hill eating with the cicadas. But, if I close my eyes to them, and the feel of an August night, it takes me to Virginia, and a smile spreads on my somber face. 

The sound of them will always take me back to nights at the picnic table, or around the fire, or laying on cots. They filled all the silent moments with a comforting sort of echoing rhythm. They were the soundtrack to our evenings, and I'm happy to be surrounded by them again. 

intangible love

I love words and everything that they capture.

The way they can invite you into some one's mind and divulge all their thoughts.
The way they can unlock a heart, and reveal all it's secrets.


I love their sound.
I love how they can twist a face when spoken in the perfect combination.
The way they can translate tears into feelings to communicate a voiceless pain.

The way we giggle when someone pronounces them differently than we do.

I love their simplicity and their complexity.
Their range from intimacy to anger.

I love that they can be revised and edited to ask for forgiveness.

It's amazing that they can offer us the ability of a borrowed perspective;
to explain the way that your eyes and heart see the world that might teach me something about the way that mine do.

I love their power and their weakness.
I love them scribbled in a card or sung along lyrically.

They can express, create, define, and redefine all the wonder in the world.

I carry my words. I empty them in one of dozens of journals.
But recently, I've been falling in love with them...all.over.again.

crazy crazy crazy

I just submitted my writing to a contest.

I made the deadline by twenty minutes.

You told me you're proud of me, and I thanked you.

You fill my pen with words, and my heart with hope that someone may love these words the way that you do.

Navigating Blindly (revised)

This game of hide and seek,

Did not end a day too soon.



Lost in a daze,

Around the days,

That followed losing you.



A fractured heart packed false hope,

set the cruise control,

for a destination anywhere

Away from the life

That did not make sense,

Without you.



The rearview mirror

Could not reflect the hurt

This place echoed

In your absence.



Cancer stole your breath,

And I promised you

I would not waste a breath,

Of this life,

You gave me.



In North Carolina,

Mom spoke of you.

The love resurfaced in her eyes,

I saw the night you reunited

In room 323.



She said you looked like a little boy,

Eyes of wonder.

Then her eyes filled

Seeing you,

disappear.



She is happy someone saw the man

She fell in love with.

The gentle,

tender one,

That proposed at the kitchen sink.



Father’s day left me

Victimized.

Without you.

I drove to Houston to be with Lindsay,

So you could smile down on

us.



A drunk driver hit my car while we slept,

And I awoke to realize,

You,

Could not help

Me.



I have a constant wonder

Of what you are doing,

What you are thinking,

What you are doing…

Up there.



It followed me to Portland,

Reflected in the river,

Where it danced the surface,

With the fireworks.



They welcomed us in celebration,

The beginning of a journey,

Of two sisters,

Looking for answers to questions

They did not yet know.



A wild scavenger hunt,

With a blank list.

No where to go,

But nowhere to be.



Had to be better than where we were.

We had each other now,

That was all you wanted.

It was all we needed.





I woke up on a sailboat,

After San Francisco gave me a lucid dream,

And I felt you on the dock with me,

That morning.



The city I called you from

years earlier.

You told me to come home,

And you became my best friend.

I was almost 19,

But I felt like I met you for the first time.



A week later,

Arizona found us camping.

Tears dressed my sunburned cheeks

The first night I crawled into a tent,

and didn’t see you.



It sent me to Virginia,

Just three summers ago,

Where we escaped the world together.

You taught me how to find happiness,

With nothing.



Who knew it had been there

all along.



I carried it home.



You changed my life in seven days.

Six months later,

They told us you were losing yours.



Waffle house poisoned my belly,

Somewhere in Georgia.

I spent two days lying under covers,

Watching the rain cry down Mom’s windows.



Remembering.



That card you wrote me that said

My voice brightened your ever-gloomy days.

I wished I could hear yours,

If just a second.



We crossed the bridge to a welcome sign,

New Jersey offered to greet our dirty feet,

And wild stories,

That I would not share,

with you.



The daze still surround these thoughts of you,

But the days no longer blur

The life I miss.



Now they define

A new love,

Anew life.



I am still learning my way,

From you losing you.

black and white to color ( revised)

I met you on a Monday,

and you snuck into my head

like a catchy pop song.



Two weeks later,

you kissed me under a sprinkler in the heat of Brooklyn,

and I felt like I opened my eyes

to the whole world.



My seemingly gray life,

was suddenly painted

wildly vibrant shades of colors

I never believed in.



The background to my day

is now so illusory,

so captivating,

even the rain is nostalgic,

and I never liked the rain.



We,
Instantly created a lovely melody.

A rhythm so natural,

Our bodies already knew each step,
They were just anticipating the cue.

This dance is effortlessly

Brilliant.



It has revealed this golden path

That may lead us anywhere and everywhere,

And I wouldn't care.



Destination is a silly detail

When my hand fits so perfectly

In yours.



Restlessness fills the days around you.

Who could want to miss a second of this feeling?



Who needs sleep when we have this?



I want to fill all my tomorrows with you,

And the delicate simplicity that instantly became

Us.



Because “ us,”

Turned my black and white

To color.

breath to lifeless words

The same old songs

suddenly sound like unreleased versions.

The lyrics haven't changed, 

yet they have,

to me. 

I've translated all of them,

now they all sing

of you.

About you,

and for...

you.

They follow me through my day,

and sing smiles into my steps.

Like your voice in my ear

but it doesn't sound like you

it echos you.

You.

You have given breath to these lifeless words.

on my way to believing

Some people spend their whole lives looking for something they'll never find.

I try to live my life expecting and wanting nothing in some silly effort leave space to be pleasantly surprised rather than disappointed.

It has definitely improved my ratio of happiness to heartache, in a care-free if it happens, it happens sort of way.

And then there's that realization that most of us hate to be reminded of; things happen in your life when you're not looking for them to.
Yet, so often we seek love in moments of loneliness, or search for happiness in times of sadness.

These feelings, these things, are temporary.

In my experience, seeking a quick fix to these feelings inflicts a crazy spiral of events and relationships that were built upon need and want; essentially guaranteeing their own demise and inevitably returning you right back to where you started before you selfishly sought out the easy solution.

It's when were not scavenging or expecting that the timing seems to end up being just so perfectly coordinated with a level of vulnerability and openness to something new; to the unexpected.

We are with our guard down, at our most unprotected state, creating the only real chance for...chance.

Because sometimes, leaving the openness for the possibility of something, allows for the once-in-a-lifetime to happen.

Today

It is this breath
we are given,
these days we wake up to
that we, so very often,
take for granted.


Another day crossed off our calendars.
 A countdown to a day significant in the future,
ignoring all those that lie in-between.



A feeling of hopelessness on those days we are forced to endure
without the presence of someone that may make the day that much more meaningful.


Some days exist just to trap you in the past,
rather than a fresh breath to the future.

Yet, as isolated as those twenty-four hours may become,
somehow the next day usually promises relief to this inflicted despair,
in the perfect sort of contradiction.
To deflate and re-inflate that balloon of life
that shrinks and swells just as often as the temperature changes.

The beauty of today is defined by the resilience,
the perseverance,
and the ability to adjust and adapt
to anything and everything the day may bring.

The hope is for today, in spite of all the past disappointments and heart aches.

Hope for possibility that this crazy life sprinkles around random corners of our day
and in the faces we meet that may change our tomorrow.

Hope in ourselves; in our abilities and our capacity to touch other's lives
the way another may have touched ours.

Whether we think we're ready for it or not, life is happening.
And today, should never be just another day.
Today... is beautiful.

gratitude

A few months ago, my  conscious put me in a really difficult position that compromised any chance of me maintaining a really special friendship of mine with doing, what could only be described as, the right thing...

He may have never found out that I turned him in, but something told me that he would.

It was a chance, I'll assume, no one else wanted to take.
But he needed help, and everyone wanted to look the other way because it was easier.

Although, the right thing is never really supposed to be easy. This was certainly no exception.

So, I sacrificed a friendship of two years, with a pinch of hope that I might help this person by, quite possibly, ruining  his life.

I didn't really know what would happen. I just held strong to the idea that I knew the right thing to do, and couldn't "what if," much longer with out following through with what I knew I should do.

I took a chance. It hurt. For almost three months, I have heard nothing from him.

Yesterday, I received a message on my facebook. My heart started racing when I saw it was from him, and my eyes scanned the words with no expectation of what he could possibly want to say to me, but desperately seeking his feelings.

The last sentence turned my goose-bumps to tears, my tears to sobs, and my sobs to a really, really big smile. Gratitude is such an amazing gift.

"And when this first all happened I never ever ever ever ever ever expected myself to say this but for now, Thank you

another cup of coffee

A friday morning sunshine porch breakfast with hot coffee.

 I can't remember the last time I sat down to one, and maybe it just made this one taste that much better. 

My backyard groundhog friend is roaming around between the shadows the trees cast across the grass. The sky only has hiccups of clouds and the breeze is so slight but so appropriate.

I have another mug of coffee waiting for me in my french press, but I'm in no rush to pour it. . . Most mornings, I don't even finish my first cup.

So this is what calm feels like? Yeaahh, I remember this feeling. 

No little white rabbit running around for a few days. 

No clock or schedule.

I'm gonna soak up this calm, and then pour my other cup of coffee. 

luck need not apply

I totaled my car last Tuesday night, and all the blame lies on me. I struggled all week with guilt and my tortured thoughts of "what if's" and " why me's,"  that were more painful than my whiplash. As much as it pained me to tell of my accident, I'm grateful I talked about it as much as I did. 


I was forced to hear how lucky I am that I walked away from it, and to remind myself that cars are replaceable and...shit happens. 


When it comes down to it, it's easy to look back and wish that things could happen differenty. That we could go back and play our hand differently. Call a re-do and request that that just simply " didn't count." 


 Unfortunately, we rarely get the second chances we crave. Even more unfortunate to those with over-analytical minds that could spend hours and days replaying the sequences of events to find the errors  and create the ideal scenarios that are an utter waste of time because, well, it's already happened. 


So, it seems hard to swallow that I could be considered lucky for totaling my car. Allow me to dismiss that notion. If I believed in good or bad luck, I'd spend my days scavenging for four-leaf-clovers, and, well, I just don't have time for that. 


Life happens. My life keeps happening, usually without warning. Whether I'm ready for it or not, it keeps me on my toes to say the least. But it's not because I'm unlucky, or can't catch a break. 

It's happens to allow me to tell the story. To force me to keep my head up and practice trudging through whatever obstacle may throw itself in my path. 
It creates situations for me to define my character, my strength, my flaws... myself. 


Let's eliminate luck, and realize these occurrences  are not luck at all, they are us. They are unique. They are our lives, and they become our stories. 

This Sun ( revised)

This quiet warmth makes you feel present.
People surround me,

But I am completely alone.

For I am not here,
But there.

The air has breath,

But only under

This sun.

It reminds me to exhale

As the waves rewind
My fast-forward.
This confusion
Makes me

Pause.

In the stillness
I am moving,
Backward.
Those moments we shared,
Soaking,
Drifting,
Forgetting everything,
Under the brilliance of
This sun.
Nothing has changed of this scenery we reveled in.
Nothing is the same of days here.

For it is now.
Then,
Is simply a memory.
My skin will darken to flaunt my day spent here.
My heart will feel close to you,
But even for these hours.

My beach chair is almost as lonely as I feel,

Without you.

The ocean is too salty,

To swallow my tears today.
I fall asleep on the sand,
And wake up looking for you.

To see you glistening on your float,
Smothered in baby oil
Behind your Ray Bans,
A can of seltzer in one hand,

The other inviting me in.
Or sitting next to me,

Reading the novel you started that morning.
You are nearly finished,
Crunching on a hard pretzel,

Handing one my way just as I open my eyes.

I never knew I could miss some one

The way that I

Miss
You.


It has been fifteen months since I laid next to you,


In that stiff,

Borrowed bed.



Part of me knew

That would be our last night.

The little girl that missed out

On those twenty years with you,

Just was not ready

To let go.



So much happened that I lost my way

In this life,

That continued

Without me,

When you left.



I wish.

I wish I could call you for advice,

Or directions.



I wish I could see your smile on a Sunday,

On a Wednesday,

Or any day

At all.



Today,

I will carry you.

Transcended through the tender,

Golden Rays of

This sun.

Escape

Seeking an escape shouldn't have to mean that you're trapped. In my eyes, it should be sought every day. 

Nothing dramatic included; I mean the simplest of escapes that are hidden throughout our day but we're usually "too busy" to even notice them, or decide that we don't deserve to fit them in for ourselves because there are so many other things we "should be doing." 

I escaped to the beach yesterday. I sat still on the sand and quieted my thoughts for the first time in . . . .

An escape from your thoughts is definitely not easy to attain, completely underrated, and (absolutely unofficially) essential for some mental health/clarity. 

It's an amazing escape from the stress, worries, and daily polluted thoughts of anger, jealousy, want, need, and frustration. 

I'm no expert, but I can pretty much promise you that your to-do list won't go anywhere. 

The urgency of all the things you "have to do today," can, more likely than not, be rescheduled for tomorrow. 

Oh... and your phone? It has voicemail. Let it work for you sometimes. Go crazy, and leave it home for the day. It's like forgetting an appendage, but it's a liberating feeling.

So why not escape today? It's the perfect day for it. 

The best way out, is always through. 

Playlist

We shared The Beatles in a secretive way neither of us even noticed. The lyrics stuck in my head and the moments snuck into my heart.

It started with Sunday mornings, Breakfast with The Beatles drowning out the crinkling brown grocery bags before my eyes even opened.

Oh Bla Dee played carelessly as I armor-all’d the interior of the ruby red Ranger with the doors wide-open, Dad laying under the car, replacing the oil.

She loves me sang sweetly from the cabin of the boat as we swayed gently with the water, our toes dancing in harmony from our rafts.

Blackbird whispered when I crawled up next to his pillow and he shared his earbuds over my shoulder.

Our days apart were spent smiling over lyrics that offered a blanket to my shivers of guilt.

Later I’d discover I could provoke a smile by singing every word to Hey Jude during a somber drive to treatment.

It's brilliant how I can close my eyes to these very songs today and go right back to those moments. The playlist of our time.

tomato

There's a little green ball hanging on my tomato plant that drew me close this morning. 

It's the first tomato I've ever grown. 

:)

Save sacrifice

I think it's safe to say that sacrifice is one of things that no one likes to do. Some of us do it with gritted teeth, while others may do it with out even realizing the act. 

There's something to be said about the realization of your self. Those moments you just feel utterly and completely comfortable in your own skin; that an ounce of sunshine and a slight breeze is the only thing missing to make  the day complete.

The contentment that can be found in realizing you have every day to explore your interests, you likes/dislikes, and the ever-changing path they may lead you down.

I'm experiencing it for the first time in my life and I'm twenty-four years old. Every day feels more liberating than the last; like I'm living the largest choose your adventure book and can't wait for the next day to pick a new page to turn to and see where it leads me.

It permits adventure; it makes me feel spontaneous, capable, and like I'm finally reaping a sense of self entitlement. I've spent so much of my life so worried about other people and compromising my wants and needs to fulfill others, it's rather refreshing to have a clear path with no other vested interests.

I smile today because I'm finally learning how to make MYSELF happy. . . and it doesn't seem to take much.
:)

When words don't work

Yesterday was not the first time I've stumbled for words to offer a parent grieving the loss of their child, but it certainly doesn't make the task any easier to attempt.

The sobs they let out in my arms made me feel our roles had swapped, and I was the parent consoling a skinned-kneed child. If only I could make it all better for them with a band-aid and a lollypop, these last few days would have offered me much more peace than the little bit I'm biting onto. 

The unexpected resurrection of a feeling that can only blur and swirl around a sense of , "why." 

Regardless of stipulation, the predictions, best guesses, and eventual bitter swallow of  acceptance of the fact that there will never be an answer.  

Sometimes even the most carefully selected words can't offer the comfort of hugs. 

So, I gave them instead. 

And even for just that moment, we were able to smile. 

patch of sunshine

We turned the soil, dug holes, and planted petunias and basil. 

It's my first little garden at the base of my porch steps that the sun shines on like a spotlight. 

My mom helped me plant it Wednesday just before the sunset. 

Now I can't stop looking over my shoulder, as I write from my porch, to check out the little patch of sunshine we made.

choose your adjectives

My alarm went off at 6 a.m. and I wanted to throw it across the room. 

I turned it off and rolled over, and my conscious immediately reminded me of my friend's question yesterday; 

"Everyone decides when to start their journey. The question is, are you ready for yours?"

Naturally, I enthusiastically said, "Yes" with out giving it much more thought. 

I ran a half-marathon four days ago and already found myself wondering, " Now what."

We are the result of our ambition, our desires, our experiences and our passions. 

We can be passive. We can be docile. We can be obedient. 

We can wait for life to happen to us. 

I choose a little differently. 

I choose to be aggressive, zestful, enthusiastic, and vivacious.

It makes my days a little more interesting and...well.. they're just more acoustically pleasing adjectives.

13.1 miles

I started the race with Lori, she wore a white ribbon that said " Mom," mine said " Dad."

Blackbird started singing in my ears just before mile 8- and I looked to my left and saw Alyssa and Lauren cheering for me on the sidewalk.

I stopped for hugs, smiles, and encouragement. She offered all of it. Her presence has such an amazing way of making me feel like I can accomplish anything, and I found myself running off with anticipation of her greeting me at the finish line.

Just after Mile 9- my Mom was jumping up and down cheering for me and as dehydrated as the 90 degree sun made me, I felt my eyes well up with tears.

The miles blurred from 9 to 12, but then I was back on the boardwalk, running with the beach alongside of me, listening to " Every step you take...".

I felt him with me and I ignored the pain shooting through my back, hips, legs and feet, and the sun that was simply radiating my skin and dripping sweat all over my face.

I crossed the finish, got my medal, walked off for water and orange juice. I took off my sneakers and the grass felt like a foot massage to my aching arches; so swollen and sore.

I zig-zagged through the crowd of people, and the American Cancer Society tent was in sight. My eyes adjusted, and I saw my Mom, Alyssa, and Lauren standing on the hill with arms open and smiles as wide as the ocean itself.

I wanted to run to them, but, well...I was sort of exhausted.

 Instead, my energy came with the wave of realization that $1,253 was just donated in honor of my father.

As they approached me, I collapsed into Alyssa's arms, as I have so many times before. This time was different.

It was a collapse of strength, tears of happiness, pride, and strength. An accomplishment I was so happy to be sharing with her, and a moment in time I know I'll remember forever.

My Mom poured water over my steaming head, and I continued to cry staring off into the ocean. Our hug turned into a sandwich, my mom and Lauren included.

I was literally, and figuratively, completed surrounded by love and I felt my breath relax and a sense of peace replace the aches and pains.

We walked down to the ocean, and I held my mom's hand as we ran into the water.

We did it Dad.

June 7, 2009- Wilmington Beach, North Carolina

Feet kicked up, sprinkling sand along the small of my back. My water bottle stopped rattling halfway here; the ice cubes melted and now the bottle sweats in the sun with me.

The beach is half full, or half empty. I walked down far enough that the crashing waves have a chance to drown out the screaming children way beyond my left shoulder, as I lay belly down and try to pretend I'm on a beach of solitude.

The green and blue gradient of water that greeted me last Tuesday has been dirtied by weekend tourists and left brown and blue on this Sunday afternoon.

The clouds have smeared above the water a create a shelf upon which more clouds have decided to rest.

I realized on the walk here that our shoes wear us, much like last night's movie captured me and this morning's coffee consumed me as well.

My flip flops will wear me for the summer and dictate my comings and goings like I do my bike's handlebars.

They'll demand painted toes and sandy feet. They'll insist upon aimless walks to absorb more sunshine and then they'll leave lines across my feet when I kick them off, and force me to miss them when I have to trade them for socks.

I hope they'll carry me to many places this summer and re-hydrate the peaceful soul and capture the sweetness I tasted three years ago when I first met serenity.

Learning Life

How many times have we heard it said that we don't know what we have till it's gone? Does that apply to every one, or just those that have never really lost?

I'll speak for myself ( and one other*) and say that I always know what I have, even before I lose it. I know what's beside me, behind me, and, naturally, right in front of me. 

But perhaps this awareness is only instilled in us through our experiences. 

The more I speak of my father, the more I realize how drastically I have been effected by losing him. Literally, every aspect of my life has changed since he's been gone.

Losing a loved one takes us all down a similar path. It's terrifying, painful, emotional, angry, confusing, and so very frustrating. 

But, I think that after the dust starts to settle, and the whirlwind has passed, the path splits in front of us. 

To say to go to the left, is to say you choose grieving, self pity, anger, sadness, and sorrow. 

To go to the right, is to choose understanding, acceptance, peace, love, and compassion for the life that you knew, and the life that you still have to carry on.

I realize that he has shaped an outlook on life for me I couldn't learn from any experience other than the tragic heartbreak of losing him. 

I chose the right path, and I have learned life through death. 

I'll cherish him forever for teaching me more than he ever knew he could. 

Possibility

Too often we decide to predetermine our options without realizing this really only forces us to eliminate possibility.

It is the time we waste weighing out our options, that we unconsciously create these boundaries that limit our scope of possibilities.

Do we walk with our heads down to make sure we don't trip?

Think of everything we'd miss seeing if we did...

Maybe it's time to spend our energy dwelling in the possibility of things, rather than feeling obligated to decide them for ourselves.


Even when it seems there is nothing, the possibility of something always lingers.

Justice

Did you know 911 doesn't come up on your call history?

I walked out of work at 1:05 am, thanks to my darling bar regulars.
There was a woman in a metallic blue hyundai next to me at the light. As soon as we accelerated, I had to swerve into the next lane because she was driving at a 45 degree angle down the highway.

She came to a complete stop before the second green light we approached, and every car flew past, held their horn, and cut me off.

Before we even reached the third light, I dialed 911.

I stayed on the phone and followed her crazy route till three police cars pulled up behind me and took over.

I stopped at the Quick Check for tea, and just as soon as I walked back out, the woman was against her car getting handcuffed.

I don't smile now because I ruined some one's life tonight.

I smile because some one will still have theirs tomorrow.

Happy and Positive

The two words my palm reader used to describe me today; happy and positive.

It felt good to hear, as if I needed the reassurance that I exude the way I feel inside.

I don't think I need to elaborate why I'm smiling right now.
Besides... it's time for Salsa dancing :)

Words to the heart

No work. An afternoon of sunshine and slow-pitch-beer-softball with friends...

Kind of sets the perfect stage to a leisurely Monday. 

I stopped at the grocery after the game and sang with the radio the rest of the way home. 

I parked right in front of my porch and grabbed my grocery bags, but I only made it up one step before I stopped and put my bags back down. 


There was a gerber daisy plant with an envelope that read 'Halley,' in handwriting that brought tears to my eyes before I even held it in my hands. 

A good cry should always end in a smile. 

                                                                              Thank you.