entertaining infinity

rev-ing

Got to do another wedding last weekend.  I feel like a fish to water when it comes to doing this ... I love working with the couple, helping them decide what they're trying to create, the vibe they want for themselves and their guests; I love helping them work through the cultural expectations and "we should's" to discover the essence for themselves ... making the day theirs in every way.

And even though (i still have to pinch myself about this sometimes) the power's been vested in me to make things legal, I couldn't do that for this couple.  Because in Pennsylvania - where these two women live (like so many places in the US) - there's no one who can do that for lesbians and gay men, so this was a ceremonial on all levels.  For some reason, this seemed to make it even more important for them to have the day go just as they wanted.  And in spite of a few glitches that we had no control over (kinda like life), it wound up being an amazing celebration, and I had the most marvelous time helping these two women declare their intention to walk through life together. 

The week before (and the days immediately following) the ceremony were some of the most stunningly crisp, clear autumn days - but the day of the wedding?  Oh baby, it poured like nobody's business: fog, wind, rain, and brrr cold.  A & J had rented a cabin by a lake in the Poconos and they'd hoped to hold the ceremony down by the water; instead, we all crowded around on the covered porch to do the service.  But since we all know that the weather of intimate relationships is ever changing, and life can throw storms at you anytime, we decided that the rain offered the perfect metaphor for all that, and the humor didn't dampen.  

Friends pitched in with food, guitar accompaniment, and an artist friend of theirs made the cake topper: a stunning likeness of the brides in sculpey-clay.  When all the ceremonying was done, they lit up the grill and threw on chicken, burgers and hot-dogs, people gathered in the great room as the wind whipped outside and the fire blazed inside; everyone broke out their kazoos* and tried (badly, but valiantly) to play the Hallelujah Chorus and other celebratory sounding tunes for the delighted couple.  (*the kazoos were part of the great wedding favor bags that A & J made for all their guests)

What a day.  Spirits were high, the rain was falling and love was in the air.  And even though I hope that one day I'll get to file papers for them to make it legal, for now, as the 6th century philosopher Boethius once said: Who would give a law to lovers?  Love is unto itself a higher law. 

Amen to that Boethius.

full

I had some work related events in Cape May on Thursday and Friday, and after I got back to my hotel on Friday night - when the official schmoozing and eventing was done - the time was all mine (until today at noon). I sat by the sea, reading and writing; I walked miles and miles by the water; sat on my hotel balcony drinking coffee looking at the water.  Mmm ... just heaven.  What is it about being by the sea that calms the soul?

Whatever it is: YUM; more please.

 ... to the beach.

white space 

white space 

 

 

 

 

 

... Saturday perch ...

white space   

... dolphin's keeping one of the charter fishing boats company (the dolphins were everywhere ... so cool ...)  ... can it really be the Jersey Shore in the spring/summer/autumn if there's not a wedding going on?

 white space  white space   

 

... sunrise Sunday morning ... 

... my spot on the Sunday morning sand (aka: my version of church ...) 

drunk on poetry

Spent much of the weekend at the luscious Dodge Poetry Festival and am finding it hard coming back down to earth.  How, after a weekend immersed in all that open hearted conversation ...of being whumped again and again in the gut ... of getting the wind knocked out of you (in a good way) by sweet invitations and soulful energy, how do you go back to work and details and gravity?

Photos and more thoughts may come later, but for now, sink into this delicious Rumi poem (and then, if you can surface without feeling just a little bummed that you have to come back, you're a stronger soul than i ...).

Love Dogs

One night a man was crying "Allah, Allah!" 

His lips grew sweet with the praising,

until a cynic said:

"So ... I have heard you calling out, but have you ever gotten any response?"

The man had no answer for that.

He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.

He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls in a thick, green foliage.

"Why did you stop praising?"

“Because I've never heard anything back."

"This longing you express is the return message."

The grief you cry out from

draws you toward union.

Your pure sadness that wants help

is the secret cup.

Listen to the moan of a dog for its master.

That whining is the connection.

There are love dogs no one knows the names of.

Give your life to be one of them.

bittersweet/peculiar times

I bought this print at a craft fair over 10 years ago.  It's moved back and forth across the country with me, and it always winds up in a place of prominence in my home (hinting, to those who might take a look, about the sort of woman who lives there ...).

A while back, I discovered that the artist (brian andreas) had a website with cards and e-cards (i like to send both), and while I was checking out his stuff, I signed up for his mailing list.  Like most artists (songwriters, writers, etc.), I don't like everything he does (some of the drawings/stories can be a little freaky, whimsical and far out even for me) ... then sometimes (like my print), he just nails it.

And this morning I was met by an email offering a free down-loadable e-book of some of his sketches called Peculiar Times.  I agree that these are, indeed, peculiar times, and since I think we need to arm ourselves with as much heart, laughs and hope as possible to get through them, I figured I'd pass the link along and hope you might get a little inspiration among the pages to walk through another slightly whacked-out day.

(and if like me, you go for the bittersweet, you can buy a copy of that print here.)

(hang in there peeps ... )

new route

When I went to see Anne Lamott speak this winter, the thing that stayed with me the most was something she said during the Q&A.  Lamott is an smart, quirky, funny, cool, liberal, born-again-Christian writer (which is probably a quadrupled oxymoron ...) and I love her stuff.  She was promoting her book Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith, so many of the questions she got after the reading were about faith and god and her experience of those.  At one point someone asked if she believed in the devil and Lamott said she did but the devil wasn't incarnated ... instead (and i paraphrase hugely here) - The devil is the voice in your head that whispers: Yeah, you know you have to quit smoking, drinking (or engaging in some other addiction or behavior that enslaves your spirit or keeps you out of integrity) ... and you will ... of course you will.  But, the devil will say: not today. 

The reason this stuck with me was because, as you might suspect, I had my own "not today."  Not an addiction as such, this "not today" was stuff I just didn't want to shake up - things I was doing that wouldn't bring me what I wanted in the big picture if I kept it up.  And while I think live pretty intentionally most of the time, the things that hang on, hang on hard, and I had been quite happy to keep on listening to that voice: You will ... of course you will ... because change like this feels a little like a psychic amputation (and most people wouldn't willingly choose to go through such a process).  So, until very recently, every time I'd look at the equation and it didn't add up, I'd still listen to the voice telling me it wasn't today, not today, not today. 

And then, it was.  

I'm still reeling, feeling untethered and often alone (even though i know i'm not), but at the same time, I am sure it had to happen and I know that if I can slog through the tough stuff, it'll open up new space for healing and growth (and this is good).  At the same time, I still kinda wish there were some magic poof that could help me by-pass the hard stuff or make it OK not to have to change at all ... but since that's looking pretty doubtful, methinks this is the way to go and I just have to keep moving forward.

Then, last night I went for a walk - going my usual route (which often includes a few minutes on some swings in a local park), but little kids were still on the swings after I'd taken two loops around the park (the nerve of them), and since I still had lots of energy to burn, I decided to take a longer route home.  Going this way instead of my usual loop, I saw some sights I'd never encountered before - a beautiful slate patterned roof on a church, a sweet neighborhood garden - and I also discovered that it really IS fun (and feels like a major accomplishment) to run up and down high school stadium bleachers.  With some wonderful and inspiring tunes showing up on the iPod at the most perfectest of times, and cool breezes to keep me company, the walk brought on some moments of in-the-bones hopefulness about the recent arrival of "today." 

I know it won't last forever ... I expect there will more days of untetheredness to come, and more hard stuff to slog through ... but it felt good to get that hopeful feeling in my body for a while; it'll help to remember it when the harder moments surface. 

And since there was champagne left over from the other day (and i have a magic 'save-the-bubbles' stopper, so it's still good), I decided to have a glass with dinner.  Even though I feel far from celebratory, it was somehow appropriate to mark the moment.  Here's to today, and to bravely taking new routes (even  when y'don't wanna). 

a lesson from the mums

Last year, when the summer flowers faded and I couldn't bear the thought of the coming winter, I bought a bunch of potted mums and put them around on the back deck to keep some color and life around as the leaves fell and the days got grayer and shorter.  When the cold began descending and all the plants looked like they'd given up the ghost, I piled the planters away in the garage.

When spring (finally) began unfolding, out they came again, and I began planting flowers and herbs ... my usual potted garden configuration.  Those pots that didn't get re-used right away sat under the deck waiting for me to buy some new pretty new somethings to fill them. 

A few busy weekends in a row, and there were about 5 neglected pots still sitting under the deck waiting for me to get out to the garden store to fill them.  Then, one day I noticed a little green shoot pushing out of the dirt in one of the pots.  Curious, I watched to see what was it going to do ... was it a weed? ... grass?  I waited.

Over the next week or so, more sprouts shot up, and the thing started looking a lot more like a plant than a weed, and eventually, little buds started showing up all over it.  By then, I'd moved it up to the deck to keep an eye on its progress.  Soon, it was covered with sweet purple flowers. 

I've since learned that mums are perennials, so there's really nothing magic about their ability to come back ... but I'd left it for dead and didn't do anything to encourage it back to life; I just let it be and assumed there was nothing there under the dirt.

While there are prettier flowers on the deck, and fancier pots that hold them, I've fallen in love with this tenacious little plant, largely because I could use some of its inspiration about now ... up to my neck in yet another round of growing pains (and boy, did i drag my feet on this - a deeper level of an old thing that needed attention and action, but i didn't wanna do it).  I like to think that maybe on the other side of all that I'm slogging through, there's something's simmering under the surface, about to burst forth with new growth and beauty in time.  Heavy on the symbolism perhaps, but still, I'm hanging on to that today.

can i get an amen?

grand improv

This is so cool.  (i wanna play with the people who organized it!)

YES

Tomorrow is Super (duper) Tuesday and NJ is among 22 states going to voting booths. I've made no bones about who is getting my vote.  If you have doubt ... consider this:

(for scoops on the creator of the video and a link to a list of the participants, go here.)

And then tomorrow, go vote.

january 1, 2008

The older I get, the more mixed my feelings are about the significance (or lack of it) of the changing of the year.  Does magic happen when the clock strikes twelve on December 31st?  Do we get a clean slate?  More energy?  Forgiveness?  It's just another day ... with no greater power to grant renewal than any other day. 

But we forget that, of course.  In the process of managing the details of our lives, it's easy to get distracted (not that i would know anything about that ... hey, what's that noise downstairs?  ... and now that i'm here, how 'bout another cup of coffee ... and i need to unload the dishwasher and ... what? ... is that the phone?) (but i digress ...). 

So probably because of all the distractions, we embrace the opportunity to reflect, and to use whatever collective energy is swirling around for change and improvement. I know I do.  (and having my bday fall on jan 2nd just adds to the reflective vibe ...)

Last year I wrote about the turning of the year and days later heard from a friend who thought the post was a bit of a downer and wondered if I was OK.  I was surprised she took it that way cause I thought I'd written something that celebrated life and change and paradox ... then again, I tend to feel that the randomness of this whole life-enterprise is something to celebrate (even when it sucks), and if you don't subscribe to that perspective, I guess it might've seemed like a bummer.

As for this go 'round the sun: I experienced lots of rich and wonderful stuff, punctuated by a couple of heavy challenges. (they would be the "even when it sucks" examples.)  I settled into the gig with more confidence; kept the old biz alive on the side with occasional writing-coaching clients and writing groups (back in full swing with those and loving it).  Shared wonderful times with friends and family; embraced my inner Rev.  Enjoyed two delicious holidays by the sea; made a move; dealt with cancer in the family (again), and then again.  I'm digging in on my karmic homework ... those patterns that have me locked in a cosmic tango (one step forward, two steps back) and I'm still in the dance.  Life is good.  ("even when it ..." ... oh, you get it ...)

So ... once again, my friends: another cup of coffee, another bill paid, another song you can't get out of your head.  Another load of laundry, traffic jam, sunset. Another challenge, another opportunity, another phone call to return.  Another visit with friends, another bottle of wine, another good stretch.  A good cry, a good laugh.  Another day, another year.

And another day again.

B

(thanks to stock.xchng and members boletin and the franz for the use of the beauteous photo)

(and you, my friend[s], for being on the ride with me ...)