rescue me, not

At some point we gotta admit

there's nothing seriously wrong with our lives.

And that rescuing is just a movie we like to play.

For example, the domestic abuse triangle:

victim, perpetrator and rescuer.

And the subtle shift of roles. 

After noticing how much time was spent 

"rescuing" others,

I quit 

and focused on rescuing myself.

That's when I noticed I didn't actually need rescuing

because there was nothing wrong with me,

Except thinking something's wrong with me.

Not that I am perfect,

but I am on my way to being more authentic,

and  kinder to myself.

Doing things differently?

It's possible...

1st frost

carpet of red leaves,

naked maple tree freshly shorn,

frosty skirt beneath

happy place

Dear Daughter,

Disembodied dance: music.

Nothing wrong with it,

I just get tired of "the body" getting such a bad rap

when we are so lucky to have them.

What an incredible creation!

How could we be so neurotic about this unbelievable wonder?

The thing I like best about singing is this:

it feels like I've swallowed a clarinet upside down.

I remember the first time I saw Jesse Norman up close.

Her head is HUGE

What an incredible echo chamber.

It reminds me of this old instruction:

imagine the inside of your skull as the sky.

It's like CST from the inside out.

Slowly stretching those membranes,

opening the sutures,

reconstructing the underlying structure.

And in 7 years you have a brand new, bigger head.

Awesome!

Much love,

Your Mamasita

PS Are you getting enough sleep?

You looked tired when I saw you today.

from Walt Whitman

Dear Jules,

"From this hour we ordain myself loos'ed of limits and imaginary lines,

Going where we list, our own master total and absolute,

Listening to others, considering well what they say,

Pausing, Searching, receiving, contemplating,

Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold us.

We inhale great draughts of space,

The east and west are ours, and the north and the south are ours.

We are all larger, better than we thought. 

We did not know we had so much goodness in us.

All seems beautiful to us,

We can repeat over to men and women,

You have done such good to us we would do the same to you,

I will recruit for myself among men and women as I go.

I will scatter myself and you as I go."

Hang in there, the best is yet to be,

not that you currently have anything to complain about...

Much love,

Walt

Hey Girl-friend

If you performed on a regular basis,

say once a week, or month,

the "recovery" time would be much less.

However our first composition 

is like your first baby: 

it requires a huge reserve of focused attention

to get it off the ground, like a space ship launch.

And it is wise to  honor that feat of will and discipline.

You done good girl, don't dismiss it lightly!

I believe my 1st ex-husband is currently single,

however, last time I saw him 

I was introduced to a woman I assume was his "significant other"

Doesn't mean, of course, that they are living together

or in any way financially committed to each other

which is really what it's all about at this point, isn't it?

That, and  "will you push my wheelchair, 

wipe my chin 

and change my 'Depends'?"

It appears that for the past 5 years of legal single motherhood,

my goal has been simply to pay my mortgage each month.

And I've done that, and now I want something more,

something in addition to paying my bills.

We women have an interesting path to walk:

The desire and gratification of having children, 

care-taking others, often at our own expense,

and no instruction in the art of caring for oneself 

except for that fleeting pre-flight reminder:

"put your own oxygen mask on 

before you assist the people around you."  

It isn't a cultural priority over care-taking others, 

hildren and men.

It eventually becomes a compulsion, 

an illusion of value and an addiction,

and just as destructive as any mindless habit performed 

without awareness or conscious intent.

 I guess this is what self-realization is about:

Recognizing our compulsive reactions, beliefs, habits, 

and our attachments to them:

from coffee (jasmine tea for me), 

comparing ourselves to others,

leisure activities,

ideas about who we are and what we deserve, etc, etc

The dawning of the understanding: we don't have to do that any more.

We can stop using the old choreography, 

fall back on our improvisation skills

and allow everything in our lives to shift, 

change, 

and move into new forms.

And the shift may be so subtle it may occur unnoticed

unless we really pay attention.

So that's what I trying to do.

Amen.

Alleluia

Painting Day Haiku

Having stalled this long 

I'm in no hurry-Your brother helps

but not too much.

new beginnings

Dear Daughter,

You have successfully, officially, transitioned 

from Mpls to London.

And from living with Mom and Brother 

to living with lover, partner, friend, colleague. 

It appears that you have left your anxiety behind, 

at least temporarily. 

And why not permanently! 

You don't need them any longer. 

They have served their teaching purpose.

Your preparations for the journey 

were so graceful,

ditto your spontaneous restructuring of baggage items

at the suggestion of the NWA staff woman.  

I watched you float through the security checkpoint

with impressive confidence and ease. 

I think you're out of the tunnel of mis-diagnosis 

and pointless placebos. 

Well done. 

Insomnia?

I couldn't sleep last night. 

I lay in bed all night in a twilight place

dreaming of you on the plane, tired and happy. 

This afternoon I heard your voice mail, 

garbled for the most part,

but I assume you are safe

and with Alex

and that is really all I need to know.

I miss you 

and I'm so happy you're gone 

Cold today, rainy, we move into winter.

Darn.

Sweet dreams,

Your Moms