entertaining infinity

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 ...) 

thank-full 07

Without the commercial or religious overtones that the other winter holidays have, Thanksgiving is the celebration of the season for me.  I get to cook and bake, have a few days away from the office, hang out with family and friends and use that time to consider and appreciate all of the good things in my life and in the world. 

Some of those ... in no particular order:

The Fam.  The Beaners. (the twin beaners celebrated their 5th bday this past week ... ohmygod, the days just fly by.)

My friends, near/far.  And friends who are family.

Good music/my iPod.  (and these cool things that i'm looking into buying so i can transfer old cassettes and albums to said iPod.) (cause seriously, where else are you going to get the defranco family singing heartbeat it's a lovebeat?  not on iTunes ... bummah)

Tissues (i have a wicked, bad cold ... daaamn).

Work that challenges me, uses many of my gifts, keeps me in a mix of very cool people, and is keeping me flush.

Dunkin Donuts coffee.

How going green seems to have reached a tipping point. (which is making it easier to keep improving in that arena myself ...)

A warm and comfy home.  (an emphasis on warm too: it's bloody cold out there; i can hear the wind whipping outside the windows and i'm toasty, thank god.)

This wonderful contraption that is on its way to me even as we speak. (i said i wasn't going to live through another winter without one ...)

Writing. 

My writing groups (and the women who have hung in there and been patient with me, still wanting what i offer, even as i have hosted so few sessions this year).   

Other people's writing (i've been reading like a wild-woman lately; a huge variety of stuff. LOVED this.  only part-way through, but digging this one at the moment).

Listerine's cinnamon breath strips.

Time outside. (i get so much less of it in the winter cause i don't tolerate the cold well, but yesterday was scary global-warming-sorta-warm [in the 60's] and i got to sit out on the back deck for my coffee and morning writing; yum.) 

My digital camera.  (and the pictures i get when i use it: exhibit a: beaners, above; exhibit b: a tree, below.)

Old Calvin and Hobbes cartoons that are still wonderful after the skillionth read.

Barack Obama.  (i really believe this guy is trying to change the political conversation and i fucking LOVE THAT.)

Dr. Bronner's peppermint soap.  (the soap itself, as well as the wonderful rants on the label: all-one! all-one or none! do not drink soap! dilute! dilute! OK?)

The alarm clock that wakes me up to the sounds of the sea.

Growth, even when it's hard.  (as i've been known to say: oh goody, another fucking growth opportunity.) (or perhaps, as the christian writer catherine marshall put it a bit more poetically than i: often god shuts a door in our face, and then subsequently opens the door though which we need to go.)

Soft clothes. (aka - schlub clothes: my fluffy yoga pants and the you-wouldn't-catch-me-in-public-in-it sweatshirt that i've had for nearly 20 years but is the coziest thing i own ...) (and yes, i'm wearing that outfit now, and thank god you can't see me ...)

My plants.  (life all over the house)

Tissues (yeah, i know i said it already, but this cold really, really sucks).

My computer.  The internet.  Google.  (how did i survive? how did i connect and find stuff i need and keep up with friends all over the place before these fast double clicks?)

Making recipes that have been passed down.  Since my mom died (damn, it still sucks to write that.  i wonder if it ever won't ...) ... since she died, every Thanksgiving I make her famous creamed spinach.  It's not hard to make, and I don't know that there was anything hugely unique about the way she made it, but it was hers.  I even remember writing it (and it's still on the same scrap of paper in my recipe file) leaning against the counter in her kitchen as she stood washing dishes, dictating.  (so glad i have so many of my mom's recipes ...)

This poem.  This one too.  And this one. (i've reading a lot more poetry these days; always looking for luscious recommendations; send 'em on if you have favorites ...)

This view outside my home office window. (speaking of poetry)

And finally, I'm thankful for this little corner of the cyber universe, where I write whatever I feel like whenever I feel like it ... and to you folks who come by to visit/read/make up my community.  As C.S. Lewis said: We read to know we are not alone.  That's a big part of the reason why I write too.  Thanks for keeping me company.

Thank-full.

change is good; you go first ...

I have been quiet here in blog-land ... to the point where friends have been saying stuff like What's up with you and the blog? and You've been so quiet ... so sporadic; everything OK?  And while, yes, I'm fine (all is well), I've also been simmering with some stuff that was not particularly blog-like, and at the end of the day I didn't have a lot of energy for playing here.

About six months ago I started noticing some patterns in my life, started digging around them and - a la the Talking Heads - found myself asking: Well, how did I get here? 

Things being as they are, when you ask such question(s) sometimes you "live along some distant day into the answer," and so my life conspired - in a variety of ways - to deliver some answers.

The thing is, when you ask questions and start digging into your life, there's no guarantee that you'll like what is revealed (whether it's an answer or a clearer version of the next choices to take).  And ain't it wild how you can know that things need to change and you want things to be different, but you want them to change the way you want them to?  Easy, and with little effort?  Growth without the aptly named growing pains?  A miracle pill that delivers the epiphany without the hard part that comes after?

And wouldn't that be nice?  But not this time.  Nope, this time, it has become clear that it's not the water that's holding me down, but my insistence on paddling on, "same as it ever was" in spite of some evidence that it wasn't wise, and it wasn't getting me where I want to go. Y'see, even as I go about my life attempting to be intentional and mindful, trusting my intuition, making some bold and brave choices here and there, and thinking that I'm a pretty good person, I recently found myself unpleasantly face to face with a theme/pattern/way of being that shows that - while all those things can be true, there's stuff I do that's not so nice, not so mindful ... a harmonic convergence of a couple things all weaving together to make one damn interesting and challenging piece of life-fabric to get through. 

I've been aware of these things in varying degrees for a long time (with thanks to my writing practice and all the evidence in the basement: boxes of journals with the variations on the theme[s] going back to my teens), but sometimes my own written evidence is not enough to move me (she of foot-dragging tendencies).  Sometimes I guess things need to conspire to get me to see in a whole new way (those damn lifequakes).  And damned if the universe didn't deliver this time.

So yes, I've known for a while that things were off and I needed to make changes, but part of me loves the stuff that keeps me stuck, and I didn't (probably still don't) want to give them up or change them: the old familiar, the sweet, the comfortable, the syrupy and delicious; I kept holding out hope for the ultimate miracle: something that would make it OK to keep on going as I was with a different result, or in the absence of that: some miracle that would make it easy to change and let go. 

But sometimes even the easy way is hard.  And while the next steps are foggy, the direction is clear: and it's not the way I've been doing it. 

And yet, no matter how much it sucks, I can't help but laugh and feel hopeful among the swirl, since I asked for it.  Not this way, of course, I asked for the easy, graceful, painless change, not this hard version.  But I did ask for it; daaamn.

Don't'cha hate it when that happens ... you ask the universe for something, and it doesn't turn out to look the way you want?  Y'mean I'm not in charge?  Go figure.

(i took these photos last week on a beach in north carolina.  the trip was planned ages ago, but days of sitting by the sea couldn't have happened at a better time.  how 'bout that? those growing pains don't always have to hurt ...)

the show goes on

All you need is love, love - so what if I'm naive?

This story makes me SO happy. 

When an Episcopal Bishop in Central Florida put pressure on an independent prep school in his dioceses (that had historical ties to the episcopal church, but no active affiliation) to shut down a production of La Cage aux Folles (a play that centers around the lives of a gay couple and their drag nightclub), it looked like it was (forgive the pun but i can't help myself) 'curtains' for the show.

"That any high school would sponsor this particular production ... certainly seems an unusual decision for a Christian preparatory school," he was quoted in the Orlando Sentinel.

But, uh ... didn't the guy who inspired all those Christian religions say that we should love ALL people?  ALL people.  All right, I know: I'm naive.  But daaamn, that's what I thought Jesus' teachings were supposed to be about ... and it's that very same thing La Cage is about: love. 

Well, love, acceptance and tolerance ... and fabulous spangles and men in drag, set to wonderful music.

But really, who cares how it's packaged?  It gets me so riled when I hear about people who PREACH love and tolerance but don't LIVE it.  (grrrrr)

Interesting too, to read about this today: six years since those planes sliced through the towers and everything started spinning out of whack.  All in the name of religion.  And being right.  And making other people wrong.  And pride.  And intolerance.  (oy, don't get me started ...) (oops, too late ...)

(me? i'm a very tolerant person; i just can't tolerate intolerant people ... )

But hey, we have a happy ending to this story: The Church of Theater (living their values of tolerance, acceptance and entertainment for all), came to the rescue.  Even though the school had caved in to the Bishop and cancelled the performances, at least 15 theater companies and/or performing arts centers in Central Florida offered to host this high school production, and they wound up putting it on at the Orlando Repertory Theater this past weekend to standing-room-only audiences. 

That's one for the good guys.  Bravo.

~  ~   ~   ~  ~   ~

This song - the closer from Act I of La Cage - is a nice finale for today.  (it gives me goosebumps almost every time I hear it ... it's not the best video, but it's the song that matters, so it'll do ...) ( ... or you might remember gloria gaynor's fab disco version ...)

And (naive or whatevah) ... if I haven't said it a skillion times already ...

thoughts on the blog-versary

The other day I realized that I've been blogging for 2 years ... man, time sure does fly.

When I started, I didn't have much of an intention for the whole thing.  Maria had been blogging for a while and she thought that "blog-as multi-media art form"/"self-expression work-out" would be a natural for me, and once I started looking around on the blogosphere (amazingly, i hadn't really been aware of it before ...), and saw what other people were doing, I knew she was right. 

I figured it would be a fun exercise/written "performance"/soap box ... but I expected it'd be pretty anonymous.  I didn't tell many people I was doing it at first, just a handful of good buds, and while I knew it was the internet and therefore hugely public, I felt I was talking in a loud room to some close friends, and I didn't really expect to be heard by anybody who wasn't close. 

Then Maria put a link to my blog on hers when I "went live," and several total strangers came by to visit.  It was a hoot to get comments from people I'd never met saying they liked what I wrote or they got a kick out of my style and/or perspective.  I quickly forgot about my expected anonymity and let my ego swim around in the delightful encouragement and attention.  (big fish ... teeny, tiny little pond.)

Once the initial rush of visitors and comments mellowed, I was still having a complete blast; the ability to write whatever I felt like and get that instant gratification from "publishing" the whatever-it-was-I-felt-like ... inserting links to cool websites (attempting to turn the world on to my own interest in whacked out grooveness, obscure clips from old television shows and other fun links)?  Too much fun.  And in between playing with the form and referencing pop culture trivia, I'd often weave in thoughts about deepiosity in varying degrees, whinge about stuff that gets me incensed (mostly W), and share bits of personal stuff here and there (can't help myself, it's in my nate-cha).

In these two years I've really come to love the dialogue that evolves from reader feedback/comments on and off-line; the comments and conversations have been the most delightful, unexpected by-product of the whole experiment.  It's not so much about feeling like I'm so marvelous and my writing is so fabulous (although i never turn down a bit of worship ...) ... it's more that I've found one more way to connect with people and "connection addict" that I am, I love that. 

And still, there have been times when I'd write something personal/vulnerable, or goofy/warped/'out-there' and I'd hesitate and second guess myself about posting it. What's kinda strange is that I'll often post things on here that have never come up with people I talk to all the time, so I wonder why am I willing to be revealing about my schtuff in a way that's so public?  And in the face of possible humiliation and/or embarrassment too?  Perfect example: a while back I had a post that I actually took down a day or two after publishing it (and left it 'down' for over two weeks) because I felt strange putting such 'woo woo' stuff out there.  Eventually I re-published it because I was annoyed by my own wimpiness; I re-posted in spite of the feeling ... or maybe in defiance of it.  Besides, most of the time, I convince myself that my readership consists of about 10 -12 regulars and a handful of "occassional's," so my feelings of "vulnerability" are simply the result of ego gone wild. 

Then, pretty recently - over a period of a month or so - I learned that a couple of people who I knew (but not really well) had discovered my blog and had been reading.  Then, soon after that, a friend explained how I could look on my blog management page and see how often my stuff had been viewed.  Once I figured out how to do it I saw numbers that were higher than I would have expected to see.  (nothing dramatic - most days average i average about 11 hits. but that means that among the days where no one visits, there are also a few where there are 20 and 30 hits; i figured the most i'd see was 10 - 12.  wild.) (but i digress)

All this info wigged me out a little. Good god, what have I written?  Who else is reading that I don't know about?  Is there anything I should have been less overt about?  Are there any old posts that'll come back to haunt me?  What sort of self-indulgent drivel have I been tossing out for the world to see?

So during my recent unplanned hiatus I gave some thought to taking a more conscious break from the blog, but in the end, there are too many things I enjoy about the practice - the dialogue that springs up with folks who read; the chance to exercise the writing/creativity muscle in a way that's so different from my personal writing practice or the longer term writing stuff I do; learning more about what matters to me, and what I do with all that ... (like e.m. forster once mused: "how can i know what i think till i see what i say?") - and so I'll keep playing.

So happy blog-versary to me ... and to you (whoever you are) for reading, and keeping me company on the ride. 

earthquakes

Back in the late 90's when I started to tell my friends about my decision to move from Joisey to California, most were supportive (although all professed to be broken hearted about it, of course), some were envious, and more often than not, the subject of earthquakes would come up.  (mostly along the lines of: doesn't that scare you a little?)

I suppose if I really thought that I'd wind up dangling on the Bay Bridge like some people did in the Loma Pietra quake back in '89, I might have rethunk it, but most of the time, I'd shake it off ... remind myself (and them) that there are natural disasters everywhere, and skillions of ways to die in each of them (and, as evidenced on the fabulous six feet under, many ways to go in general).  So I was playing the odds: How many days go by without The Big One? ... and how great is the life and the weather out there?  And what are the chances that The Big One will come when I'm on one of the area's many long (5 mile-ish) bridges over the Bay?  (ok, maybe my odds were higher than many, cause i went over this one - the richmond-san rafael bridge - several times a week on my way to work.) (and from time to time i WOULD find myself halfway across - saying: don't let the big one happen now ... but i was playin' the odds.) 

There were quite a few earthquakes when I lived there - none of them particularly significant (you get used to a lot of little and medium sized ones) - and after a while I started to think that this was one of the things that makes the people in California unique: there's a spirit that prevails when you know the ground can shift under you any time, and with that possibility always there, you'd better dig in and enjoy it while you can.  (loved that about my CA peeps.)

So back in Joisey a little over five years now (good god, has it really been that long?) I'm reminded time and again that earthquakes can happen even if you don't live in the beautiful Bay Area on a fault line. A phone call comes, planes fly into buildings, you get downsized ... something shifts and the world as you know it gives way and there's no retrofitting and no "emergency preparedness kit" on the market for these sorts of quakes.

Had one of those recently.  About three weeks ago someone very close to me went to the doctor to get a little problem checked out ... and it turned out to be a really big problem.  In the days that followed, the words surgery, chemo, radiation and prognosis were part of the daily mind-swirl. 

And even though I knew that the odds with this particular "brand" of cancer were good, it was hard not to flash back to my mother's experience; but (thank god) this is not her brand, and this time the news is good (if you're going to get cancer, i guess this was the kind to get) - there was no involvement in lymph nodes, no invasion in other organs, and for all intents and purposes, he's now cancer free.

So, we've escaped The Big One ... another earthquake gotten through; another reminder of impermanance, fraglility, beauty and how great life is (even when it sucks) ... and that you better dig in and enjoy it while you can.

And once again, I turn to The Gospel of Pop Culture for some inspiration and wisdom, and invite you all to sing along:

Sha la la la la la live for today ... your life is now ... so make the best of this test and don't ask why ... any day above ground is a good day ...(ok, that was an obscure one, but indulge me the aussie reference ...) eat, drink and be merry ... what a wonderful world ... it's such a lovely ride.

white space

still kicking ...

I'm still here. 

Since the last post I've been preoccupied with moving (and a few of life's other etc's), but I'm in the new digs for two weeks now and while there are still a dozen or so boxes left to unpack (the office is always the last to get done), I'm feeling nicely settled and I'm amazed that I've been able to sink in and inhabit this home so quickly.  (that's what you get when you trust the force, i guess.)

A few random thoughts/observations while unpacking:

• I definitely come from the plant/candle school of decorating. There may be more plants and candle holders than surfaces to put them on.  This is scary.
• How many times can one make a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond in a two week period?  Let's see if I can break the record.
• A spoon full of sugar DOES make the medicine go down (listening to the iPod and dancing around while unpacking), although I wish I could snap my way through the office like Mary and the kids do with that playroom.
• Am I ever going to listen to those mixed tapes from college again?  (is there a way to get them from tape to iPod? i wonder ...)
• Where did I get all these little hotel hand creams?  Do I go to that many hotels?  Will I ever use them? Why can I not throw them away?
• Posting on the blog will be way more fun than unpacking/organizing the office. And after this, maybe it's time for another trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond. 

on the road again ...

The boxes are starting to pile up - even though I've barely begun and there's still a way to go until things are completely dismantled - but things ARE being dismantled. 

Yep, I'm at it again; Willie Nelson's got nothing on me: I'm on the road again.

When I moved to COTU, I knew it was a temporary thing.  Once TGFKAS and I decided to split in March of '06, I wanted to get out of the place we'd shared as soon as possible (not that things were miserable, but once you've decided to split, why stick around longer than you have to?) and LMD offered to have me come stay in her home for a while as I sorted things out. 

We'd been friends for years, but there's a big difference between being friends (no matter how dear) and sharing space with them - particularly at our ages; I figured it would be a month - maybe two - while I looked for my own place without the big time pressure.  But within no time (really, it couldn't have been more than two weeks after i'd moved in) LMD was saying: You're not leaving; you're never leaving. 

We got on so well it was almost magic.  We hung out together and gave each other space.  During the summer, we'd come home to COTU after work, throw some dinner together, light candles and sit out on the back deck talking and laughing until someone yawned and we remembered that there was work again the next day.  A consultant friend of ours from Connecticut came to stay with us a couple of times/month when he was working on a project nearby and on those nights we'd stay up even later.  On the weekends we'd often have a friend or two over and suddenly it would be a party.  Even when LMD started seeing someone late in the summer, he slipped into the rhythm of COTU seamlessly.  The winter came and there were fires in the fireplace, long weekend days cooking and hanging at home.  Sometimes she and I would be busy with work and life and a stretch would go by where we'd barely see each other.  But then we'd get a night together and catch up and get that wonderful girlfriend perspective on whatever was going on in each other's life.

At various times we've both said we couldn't imagine how it could have turned out better.  We were both going through some personal and professional changes during this time, and living together - sharing support, perspective and laughs - was invaluable as we weaved our way through it all.

And we had no conflicts.  None.  Really.  We DID joke about the differences in our decorating styles: she decorates (and these are her words, not mine) in "Old Italian Grandma," and even though most of my stuff is in storage, my corner of the house (and the additions that i've brought to the main part of the home) look like (in her words again) "IKEA/Pottery Barn/plants and candles."  But decorating styles aside, we made an incredibly comfortable home together.   

And still, we knew it couldn't be permanent; COTU was her home, and eventually I'd want more of my own space, but the situation was so wonderful and we got on so well that neither of us was in a hurry to change it.  We fantasized about having me buy the home next to hers (COTU's a duplex) and breaking the wall down between the dining rooms, expanding the deck and having the best of both worlds.  Barring that possibility, we were going to enjoy our grown-up's "college dorm" for as long as we could. 

Then, recently, a friend tossed out the idea of having me live in his soon-to-be-vacated house (he was moving) for a year while he waited out the sluggish NJ housing market.  My first reaction was to say no.  His house is lovely, and it was tempting, but I just couldn't imagine why I'd want to do that.  Hadn't I moved enough in the last 5 years?  Why would I move, only to move again once the house was sold next year? (even if it didn't sell right away ...)  Besides, the organization I work for is going to be relocating early next year; I figured I'd stay with LMD at COTU until then, and then I'd draw my little 'acceptable driving radius' on a map and start looking for my own place.  Nah ... I was going to stay put. 

But then a little voice started rising in me saying: You can't turn this down; you've got to do it.  And while I could easily argue for both sides of the "do it"/"don't do it" debate, I just couldn't bring myself to pack and move again ... even if it was a great house and a sweet deal and it would help a friend and I would get all that luscious personal space - nope, things were great w/LMD.  I was staying put.

But damn that little voice, it keep tapping at my brain.  I tried to ignore it, but I knew what it was capable of - it had gotten me to move once before.  And a bigger distance than this. 

I'd been living in the Bay Area about 3 1/2 years when it started ... this little voice (ok, so not really a 'voice,' more like an intuition ...) nudging me ... making me look east and suggesting I might want to move back to NJ.  The thought made no sense, so I ignored it.  I loved my life in California; I had a great job, great friends, a side business that was growing, weather I LOVED ... why would I want to move?  No way I was going back to New Jersey.

But the nudging wouldn't go away.  I kept ignoring it, but it kept coming back and coming back, and eventually it didn't even feel like a choice anymore - it felt like an internal directive.  Call me batty (and some do), but I began to think that something bigger was calling and I had to listen.  And act.  It pissed me off in the biggest way, but still I did it. 

Sold a lot of my stuff, left my job, my friends, my life, the growing biz, my beloved beach, the greatest massage therapist and Thai food ever, and drove back across the country again.  Every now and then, as more and more miles came between me and the Bay Area, I'd think: What the hell am I doing?

Then, just a little more than a year after I'd settled back in NJ, my mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer; she died 10 months after that.  During those 10 months, I lived within easy driving distance from her; not a 5 1/2 hour plane ride away.  Thanks little voice.

But when the recent You should do this stuff started bubbling up around my friend's house, I tried to look the other way again.  Move?  Uh uh.  Not doing it.  Just did it a year ago.  And I'd only been living with TGFKAS for a year and a half before that; it doesn't make any sense.  (you should do it - the space is going to be good for you)  Shut up shut up shut up I've moved enough in the last 5 years; I'm staying here until the office relocates.  (you should do it) I'm not moving this spring and again next spring.  I'm staying put.  (you really should do it) 

I'd put my figurative fingers in my psychic ears: Nahnahnahnah; I'm not listening; I'm not listening!  (come on deb ... you NEED to do this ...) 

(damn, damn, DAMN!) 

And so (whad'ya know), I'm moving.  It seems the universe has another plan for me (again).  (damn it)

Having said all that, it's not like I'm doing this out of duress; my friend's house is beautiful and charming and warm; it's positively lovely.  It also gets me WAY closer to the Beaners (10 minutes away), and 15 miles closer to my job; it's a walk to the NYC train ... it's got TONS going for it.  It also has space - something I haven't had to myself for quite a while - and I'm looking forward to reacquainting myself with all the stuff I've been keeping in storage and decorating in my "IKEA/Pottery Barn/plants and candles" way once again.  (and yes, i really DO decorate like that ...)

But I hate pulling up stakes again ... unsettling what's settled.  And I'm going to miss LMD like crazy.  Ever since I made the decision, we've been bracing ourselves, and in the mornings when we get our coffee and move into our days I know we're both trying not to think about what it's going to be like when we don't have that anymore ... it's going to be hard for me to say good-bye to our happy little home here at the Center of the Universe.  Yes, we'll still see each other and yes, we'll still hang out; but it won't be the same.

The other day she told me: You could change your mind; you could still stay.  But I can't; this feels bigger than logic somehow.  I think it has something to do with the something that's coming that I talked about a while back and I feel like I just have to go along for the ride.  LMD tells me she admires the way I listen to my intuition and don't shy away from the opportunities and challenges it often leads me to, and I know it's one of my strengths.  I just wish it didn't involve pulling up stakes and relocating as often as it has in the last decade.  Sometime I wonder if I'll ever get to settle down again.  I hope so; I know I'd like to.  I just know it's not today.  Not yet. 

On the road again.

"could be ... who knows? ..."

"... there's somethin' due any day, I will know right away soon as it shows.  It may come cannonballin' down from the sky, gleam in it eye, bright as a rose.  Who knows?"

I have been getting that Tony-in-West-Side-Story-feeling a lot lately - that feeling that change is in the wind.  (or, to quote my inner geek: i feel a tremor in the force.)  (and yes, yes, i know that things are always changing, but this feels different somehow ... )

Being the patient soul that I am (NOT), I've been on the look-out for insight into what's going on, and I wound up buying myself an in-depth horoscope reading for my birthday to see if I could find some insight there.  This is not something I would normally do.

While I read newspaper horoscopes with some frequency, I read them like you read fortune cookies.  My inner cynic knows they're bullshit (come on - the position of the planets impacts my personality and characteristics? get out ...), but the inner believer in magic (and the force) reads/opens them like Charlie Bucket praying for a Golden Ticket, hoping to experience one of those moments when that random fortune or newspaper horoscope resonates with something going on in my life and then, as a bonus, gives me a new way of looking at it all so the stuff is somehow easier to manage/walk through.  (or even better than that, it provides THE perspective that gives the ULTIMATE epiphany, which in turn helps realign all the challenging stuff in life and i am healed of all my nasty habits and tendencies and i never have to re-organize my files or diet again ever.) (not too much to ask, right?)

But sometime last year a friend told me about a Solar Return reading (a particularly in-depth astrological reading) they'd received as a birthday present; said that it had offered some interesting perspectives, and for some reason it stuck in my mind.  I usually use my birthday as a time to reflect on the previous year and ahead to the future (my b-day's proximity to new years adds to the energy ...), so with the Tony-in-West-Side-Story-feeling (and the decided lack of patience that was accompanying it) I decided I'd buy myself a reading to add a new twist to the reflection process - and maybe get some insight as to what the "something" was that's coming. 

I sent some pretty basic info (date, time and location of birth) to this woman (the same one who did my friends reading) and a week or so later I got an hour-long CD with all this info about my upcoming year.  There are some moments in the reading when things get a bit thick with technical talk ("right conjunct your mid-heaven at the zero degree aries point ..."  uh, what?)  (those parts sounded like math to me), but there were also lots of interesting interpretations of those technical things, and some of them really landed for me ... made sense and gave me stuff to chew on as I think about how I want to move forward this year.  But in the end, one of the biggest "take-away's" about stuff to be on the lookout for?  "Change is what it's all about for you right now," she said.  (and she used the words: "dramatic change.")

As if I didn't already sense this; that's why I got the reading in the first place.  Do I actually believe this?  I don't know.  A little bit.  Enough to find myself whinging inside thinking: why more big change damn it?  Haven't I had enough of that in the last several years?  Can't I just stay put for a while puhleeze? 

Man, I sure hope there's not some profound and brief love affair headed my way where either I or my lover will be doomed to a violent death while a soundtrack of Bernstein and Sondheim plays.  That would really suck.

Maybe I should have sprung for a psychic instead. 

Cause it really does feel like something's coming. 

Could be ... who knows?

reverential (i'm coming out ...)

A couple of years ago my friend Wes was asked by some good friends of his if he'd become a minister so he could perform their wedding.  The couple had learned of a church in California where anybody could get ordained just by signing up on-line and they thought their ceremony would be more intimate and special if someone they cared about did the honors, instead of some stranger who, by the power vested in them, could make it official.

And what an inspired choice they made too, cause Wes was a natural.  In his day job, he's an arts administrator, but he brings the 'inner rev' to everything he does, so it was not a huge surprise to hear that he got asked to officiate another wedding soon after.  I can't remember exactly what the connection was, but I think a member of the bridal party or a friend of the family had just become engaged and they liked what he did with the ceremony and blahblahblah, "Do you think you could do mine too?" and the next thing you know the word began to spread about Rev Wes.  It's been few years now and he's performed at least a half a dozen weddings (if not more - he officiated the nupt's of former theater colleague/bud/blogger mickeyG's in january ...).  He loves doing it, and the folks he does it for seem to love it too. 

Now, I've been hearing about Wes's adventures in Rev-ing for a few years now, and from the very first time he told me about it, I wanted to do it too.  But I didn't, and I didn't tell anybody either; I was embarrassed by the desire.  Not sure why exactly, cause it wasn't like it was a big honkin' deal, anyone could do it; you didn't need to study or 'qualify' in any way at all, all you needed was an internet connection and an email address.

My friend Hugh did it this past summer in order to facilitate a friend's daughter's wedding (and while he enjoyed the experience, i have a feeling that this one ceremony may wind up being the beginning and end of his "ministry").  I've also started seeing on-line non-denominational ministers show up in (of all places) The New York Times wedding announcements.  (yes, admit it; i read the nytimes wedding announcements.  not all the time, and never all of them.  but if i've got a stretch of time on a lazy sunday i will; so fascinating to get a snapshot into this big moment in people's lives.)

Lately when I peek in on these announcements, I've noticed a trend.  In between the Rabbis, Fathers, Reverends, Clerks and Judges, there are a lot more mentions of people becoming non-denominational ministers for the purpose of this one particular wedding. ("jayne slatkin/joe smith/chip rippington III, a friend of the couple's, became a non-denominational minster to officiate the wedding ...")

So clearly lots of other people were doing it.  Why then oh why couldn't I?

Not sure actually. Time went by (as it does) and I'd hear about Wes having lunch with another new couple to discuss plans for their ceremony, and I'd get all envious.  Eventually I started coming out to a couple of friends about my interest, and while I got nothing but positive feedback (even from my two friends who are presbyterian ministers), I'd still do nothing but simmer with the idea in a back-burner sort of way. 

Slowly, the reason behind my reluctance started to dawn on me: no one had asked me to get ordained to facilitate a specific wedding - as it seemed everyone else I knew of (or read about in the nytimes) had done - I simply wanted to; I thought it would be fun and an honor, and I thought I'd be good at it.  That's it.  My interest felt secret and decadent, and at the same time it felt almost like an intuition ... like it was something I was supposed to do, and that felt just a little silly, self indulgent, and - pardon the unavoidable pun - sacrilegious. 

Luckily, it finally dawned on me that maybe it was OK for me to do it because I didn't take it lightly; I treated it with reverence ... and at the same time, the irreverent in me fuckin' LOVES the fact that anybody can do it.  All you have to do is sign up online, I mean, come on ... that's a hoot!  I love that you could just click here and do it as a laugh because you CAN.  I love the egalitarian nature of it ... (is this how those elvis impersonators got legal so they could marry people i wonder ...?); I love that someone like Hugh can get ordained to officiate his friend's daughter's wedding - and will probably never do it again; or like Wes, you do it in order to officiate one friend's wedding and discover that you've fallen into a side business that feels more like a side "calling."  Or maybe, like me, you do it because you think it would be fun and an honor even though there's no one lining up to have you facilitate their wedding ... yet.  (if you get ordained, they will come ...)

So, on the 6th of November of oh-6, I took the plunge "just because."  I went to the site, clicked a couple of times, typed in my name and my email address, and clicked 'send.' (and then had a little candle lighting ritual, of course ...)

The next day I got the email:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is to confirm that

DEBORAH COOPERMAN
has been ordained as a minister of the
Universal Life Church, Modesto, California.

Date of Ordination: 11/7/2006

by Kevin Andrews, Pastor
www.ulc.net
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Your request for ordination has been processed, and you are now an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church in Modesto, California! Please record the above date of ordination for your records, as you may need this information in the future to fill out the various forms of the clergy.

Now, I won't be calling myself a minister - even though that's what they call it - largely because it rankles the nice Jewish girl in me, but also because it just doesn't seem like the right name for what I'd like to do with it.  I'd like to find another word, but at the moment the only thing that comes to mind is "celebrant" and that sounds a little too airy-fairy even for me.  But whatever it's called, I'm really glad there's a place (in my beloved and progressive former home of california) where it's possible for anyone (ME!) to legally sign/file the papers required to make relationships "official" in the eyes of the government.  Being with people in the highs and lows of their lives is one of my favorite things ever, and I hope I'm going to get lots of opportunities to help mark those times. 

Amazingly (but maybe not), there's one more bit to this story: about a month after I made it official on-line, my friend Shel and his newly affianced B asked me if I'd be willing to do the honors for their wedding in April.  :)  We had our first chat about what they want to do and I already have two poems picked out that I think would be really good for their ceremony.  And ever since they asked, Shel has been addressing emails to me as "Rev Deb" ... it cracks me up.  (and i like it too in a warped but honored sorta way!)  A side-business and calling for me too perhaps?  (i have a feeling ...) (what fun, what fun!)

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~ I took the above photos last summer at the beach on the same day ... it was a happenin' day for weddings!

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~ And semi-related to all this: today NJ officially became the 3rd state in the US to offer civil unions to gay couples (a step in the right direction, if not the whole magillia, i say) ... many reasons to celebrate.

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