Note to Self...

Dear Self,

I know you've been frustrated lately -- having no patience with others or yourself is a dangerous situation to be in.

I hope that you are working on self-love again and acknowledging the fact that you're "merely human," despite your energetic/emotional sensitivities. 

Remember what's written on your mirror? The positive affirmations? Go check those out again.

I understand that lately, answering and returning phone calls is difficult; frankly, I think you know that you're not a great phone person in the sense that the ringing makes you anxious and having to "call back," is a P.I.T.A. for you --- you do much better with letters and e-mails.

 It's difficult because many of your friends understand this, but many again do not--- and they are better at phone conversing timing than you are. That's okay; you may simply need to remind them that you dislike the phone with a few exceptions (they know who they are ;-)!

I know that this phone anxiety and irritation doesn't apply to friends/family that you've not spoken to in a while; that's super! 

Just make sure that for the others, you let people know via some other response (e-mail, letter, Facebook, etc.) that it's not that you feel disinclined to catch-up with their lives, it's rather the form of communication! 

Try sending an e-mail/letter instead of a returned phone call. It's perfectly OKAY to be an auditory person who gets over-stimulated/exhausted by the phone. 

I also understand that most of your friends know your emergency phone sequence -- if you get two or three calls in consecutive sequence, it means an emergency --- as in they need to talk IMMEDIATELY. 

The problem arises when certain people don't fully comprehend what constitutes a TRUE emergency --- problems of the "same issue," that occur repeatedly are NOT an emergency any more unless a large affecting shift has occurred. 

Don't feel guilty about your irritation when these people call twice and you feel that you know it's a "crying wolf," situation.

You're a fabulous letter writer and a great friend-- but you need your space and time to respond well too! 

The reason folks like calling you is because of your compassionate, warm, understanding and genuine nature. 

You are fairly good at curbing or refraining from judgement; whatever may be privately going on for you, you comprehend that your role is not to judge other people during times of crisis-- which is great! 

You also tend to have good reflexively reactive skills to soothe and aid in the moment -- strengths! Again, people enjoy speaking with you and the phone brings you closer when they're far away. :-D

However, being discriminating with your time is an IMPORTANT thing to do for yourself, especially considering that you're *ahem* in a delicate way.

Nothing is more important right now than the health of your body, mind and soul for the little one who is growing every day. 

It is NOT selfish to let your cell go to voicemail, rather than anxiously abandon whatever it is you're doing to "be there," for other people. 

Remember, your close friends know you quite well and will not be offended if you call them back later (if it constitutes a true emergency) or send them an e-mail when you're not occupied with the trials/tasks of your own life. 

It's terribly kitsch to say, but put your OWN oxygen mask on before assisting others... or you may end up passed out, drooling on the floor with a low pulse and brain-damage.  ;-).

I have also noticed lately that you seem to be having trouble shielding yourself from the emotions of others; listen to me little empath, you're pregnant --- you're sharing, creating and giving more energy than you ever have in your life and that means that there's less left over for the meditative practices that are second nature to protect yourself.

Take deep breaths and take MORE BREAKS if you need to from the energy of others! If you find yourself growing irritated and pissy, it's allowable to simply be excused from the affecting persons or people. 

You have the best REASON (note, I didn't say excuse) to do so: the baby. 

As with all wonderful little parasites from heaven that affect the woman who's their host body: the baby's needs come parallel or at times overtake your own. There is no shame in cutting back while dealing with all of the changes in your body -- the physical being that you're SHARING at this moment.

All your friends, family, clients and colleagues completely understand. They will wait for you, support you and be there when you come back or have more time available. Trust me.


All right, I've talked my own ear off. 

Remember: I love you too.

~ Love

P.S. HAPPY 60th ENTRY OF MORNING WALK MUSINGS WITH LOVE!

On the Edge and Teeter-Tottering...

My heart sits on the edge, 

Leaning slightly back and forth with every beat,

Am I going to fall?

I feel the edge's sharpness; a knife's gleaming quality,

Beneath my soft heart's exterior,

If it beats too strongly, will I be cut?

They say "Don't look down,"

When one is on the edge,

What if I must?

Behind my eyes, my soul is burning,

Brightly lit for all to see,

Something deep inside me stirring,

Reaching out from within me,

Pain is crinkling all my edges,

Loss is staining them with age,

These things crack because they're past,

Now I live beyond the sage.

Old familiar things are crawling,

Near the edge I balance on,

I'll sit still with breath and calling,

My life's blood to keep me strong.

Teeter-totter, my heart shifts,

Back and forth and back again,

Balanced forever?

My hands are warm and glowing,

Heating energy, showing light,

Can I help myself?

I will fall, I know it,

Determined, I'll see the hope above and below,

I'll land on love.

Cool, Clean and Under the Clouds...

We woke at 5:00 AM, had our snuggle time on the swing, J left.

I re-entered the house to put the dishes away, start a load of laundry, empty the dryer, clean the kitchen counters, read a chapter, return e-mails...

Chores done, I poured myself a second (larger) cup of tea with organic almond milk and stepped outside.


The air was crisp and clear this morning.

6:26 AM: Time to walk.

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If I close my eyes, I can hear the symphony of birds, bees, insects, water, wind, grass... 

If I open my heart, I can feel the energy singing through my veins, my blood whooshing with every beat...

If I close my thoughts, all I notice is my breath, flowing in and out seamlessly from the atmosphere to my lungs...

If I open my hands I can feel the fluid-like air trickling between my fingers and around my body...

If I close myself, I can feel my chest tighten and ache with worry...

If I open my love, I can feel the warmth in my belly rise up to meet the warmth of my heart in my ribs...

If I open and close my energy I can feel the change it causes in my center and sphere, the affect it has on everything I touch, think, speak or act upon.

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Who knows what lies ahead for this world of ours?
Who else can feel the shifts in the energy of the universe so minutely?

How many changes both negative and positive are singing a wake-up call?
How will we realize that the time is now?

When will our actions speak louder than our words to save this planet?
When will we learn that we cannot fight nature; we are part of it?

What will be the deciding factor to light the fires within our individual souls?
What will be the ultimate cost of the mistakes and waiting?

Where have we come from to misunderstand ourselves?
Where are we going to gain further truth of the universe?

Why are the ideas that can help so simple and yet, so difficult to implement for all?
Why can't we all make an effort to understand each other and get along?

Are these things possible?

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6:59 AM: Time to stop wondering.

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Love is my reason,
           my quest,
              my hope,
                my insight,
                    my purpose,
                        my message,
                          my power.

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NOW, GO HUG a TREE and BE THANKFUL that it's THERE! 

<3

A Walk Thwarted...

The alarm went off as usual...

            "Goood morning!" it sang to us.

Next to me, J stirred and exhaled a deep sigh.

We both felt mostly used to the new schedule.

The work schedule requiring him to wake at 4:30 AM, or 4:45 AM so that he could leave for work between 5:00 and 5:10 AM and arrive in Denver on time.

Some mornings though, are proving more difficult than others.

He rolled out of bed as I snuggled deeper into the lumpy fluff of our mattress and was promptly sunk into the center of the bed... the hole which we both fought not to fall into during the night.

"I'm gonna', take five more minutes," I murmured to him.

"Okay Darlin'. You don't have to get up, you know," he said soothingly.

"Yes I do. I want our porch time," I replied groggily.

"Okay," he said quietly, pulling on his work clothes before popping in to brush his teeth.

I slipped back into the gray, warm, blanket of nothingness.

Shhhhuunk, SLAP!

The sound of the icebox door popping closed roused me from my doze.

I blew out some air with effort and rolling around like a turtle on its back, I managed to swing my legs over the depths of our bed which is lumpy and sags in the center.

Our mattress is over 15 years old. Most mattresses only last about 10 years.

 It's a pillow top that I bought on sale in college, it had been the floor model of a discontinued mattress. A floor model for 5 years, which is why I got such a great deal at the time.

The mattress tried to pull my butt back into its folds as I waggled my legs a bit, trying to get my toes to the floor.

Being pregnant, my once tiny waist (no matter my overall weight fluctuation) has disappeared and now a soccer ball has taken up residence.

I padded into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then pulled on a plaid flannel shirt and sweatpants in the dark of our bedroom.

Opening the door into the kitchen, the hinges creaked loudly.

The tiny light over the sink was on and the kitties were munching their breakfast happily in the small fading edges of its pool of yellow.

The rest of the house was still quite dark.

The tea kettle glowed - bone coloured with  blue flames dancing on low beneath its ceramic belly.

I poured myself a cup of decaffeinated Lady Grey tea and added a dollop of Almond milk; not waiting for the bag to steep.

I grabbed a sweatshirt from the rack, and eased open the front door, pushing the red wooden screen open with my foot as I pulled the heavy old wooden one closed behind me.

J was sitting on the porch swing; steam rising from the cup of black coffee between his palms, his head tilted back and his eyes closed, he had a faint, yet tired smile on his lips.

Feeling a little light-headed, I took a deep breath of the delightfully cool morning air.

 It was still inky and dark outside; the freshness of the morning evoking a feeling of clouds and rain.

The trees in our front yard were just barely beginning to show their crooked outlines against the stark backlit glow; beginning sunrise in the sky.

I exhaled and stepped over to the swing. Without opening his eyes J stopped the gentle rocking with his foot as I snuggled down next to him, laying my head on his shoulder.

"I'm tired," I said yawning.

"You don't need to get up with me," he said, sipping his coffee.

"I don't mind getting up early. Besides, once I'm awake, I'm up for at least an hour," I said, continuing with, "I just mean I didn't sleep well last night. I couldn't get comfortable."

"I know what you mean. It was strange last night, I couldn't fall asleep," he offered.

"I'm anxious about getting a new bed," I said.

"I know. It feels like a big deal," he murmured.

"Our bed is old and past its expiration date, but... it's a lot of change," I whispered.

"Yes it is, but I think it will be worth it for us both to be comfortable. Besides, the one we're looking at lasts 20 years at least, right?" he said smiling.

After a few moments, he finished his coffee and stood up, stretching his long arms high.

"All right Darlin', I gotta' go," he said, pulling me up off the swing into a hug.

A warm kiss and then he was off to work.

I watched him pull out of the driveway and gently accelerate down the street.

Picking up our cups, I slipped back inside the house, leaning against the door to shut it behind me, feeling the screen door slam outside.

I rinsed our cups in the sink and then leaned back, bracing myself against it and arching my spine.

Suddenly, I felt a headache coming on. The edges of it were inching around my ears and the nape of my neck, buzzing behind my eyes and temples unpleasantly.

With a frustrated sigh, I walked back into the living room and sank on to our big green couch; wrapping the three generations quilt around me.

Propping my head against the round sofa arm, I closed my eyes.

No morning walk today.

<3

Thunderstorms, Strange Orange Flowers.... The Ascent of Summer...

Behind our house, grow orange flowers.

Waving; glistening, blue from rain.

Thunder causes them to shiver, 

Lightening, illuminates the train.

The whistle sounds despite the torrent,

Muffled by the water's path.

I am walking on the sidewalk, 

In the mist of morning's math.

Are they poppies? Bright green stalks.

They highlight our back cement.

The one bright spot in all the alley,

Marks our house, for we're content.

Soon will come the heat of summer,

Raging, bursting, bright and warm.

Spring is fading fast and faster,

Trees are budding with this storm.

I will long for rainstorms' whisper,

I will thirst for thunder's boom.

My heart burns for lightening's flash,

When hiding from the sun, in rooms.

Fans will dance with undulation,

Slow; their breath across our skin.

Iced tea sweats in glasses warming,

Brewed with sunshine, ice cubes thin.

We shall swim in lakes and rivers,

Beer and wine, tequila too.

I'll not drink, but taste the mint,

Which bites my water glass full through.

All too soon the evening's crickets,

Singing deep in trees and grass,

Will foretell of wind and fire,

Leaping, to repeat the past.

Ripe the fruit of lazy summer,

Sweet the taste of morning dew.

Sweat and freckles, books and movies,

All delivered right to you.

Then the evenings' mud will harden,

Cold and solid; black and thick.

Autumn comes; it slips right in,

Behind your thoughts; a worthy trick.

I shall miss the summer showers,

Wearing next to nothing: skin.

Fall, my favorite winds my hours,

For now, the rain begins again.

In Defense of my Defense...

I find myself frequently running low on patience these days.

Normally, I consider myself to be a very patient person (at least for all outward appearances) because I consider that to be a trait of basic, common decency.

Being pregnant, all my "zen," has gone out the window.

I find myself talking out loud in the car... to no one.

Well, really, I am conversing with the driver who just cut someone off--
-- or nearly hit me by ignoring a protected arrow turning--
--- or who ran a stop-sign to my left--
--or who is tailgating myself or someone near me.

I also find that my passion is leaking out of me all the time!

Small things that would normally be the cause of a gentle discussion and frank exchange of ideas, set me up on a vehement soap box.

Most recently in defense of vegan and vegetarianism.

I find that I am less able to let things go -- I have to open my mouth. :-P

Sigh.

I was never so easily offended as I am now.

Noises, comments, worries... all of these things are parading around my consciousness.

The good news is, I have not tossed my cookies today -- without anti-nausea herbal help.
That's certainly a milestone.

The bad, or not "bad," so much as slightly disheartening bit, is that emotions (both my own and those of others) seem to affect me more than usual.

I thought I'd done my homework on this, but sharing a body with a tiny new life has spread my energies thin, and to be honest, I find myself becoming upset over ridiculous things that would never bother me normally.

I keep trying to envision "water off a whale's back," and to ground myself, but though I dig my bare feet deeply into the mud of the earth and my soul, I cannot seem to find my equilibrium.

"Oh Love, this is completely normal. Haven't you heard that pregnant women are crazy and hormonal and cry all the time?"

Well, yes. I have heard that. I will also admit, that I cry particularly quickly when I see cute things, like puppies.

However, while I am used to feeling passionately and deeply, I am not used to feeling constantly insecure and cranky all. The. Time.

Hopefully, this will pass.

Well, it has to.

In other news: I still love the smell that sits between the pages of books, as well as the smell of my fingers after playing my guitar.

At least I have some comforting things left. ;-)

Happy May Everybody.

May the 4th Be With You...

BZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZ!

  I jerked awake. 

An alarm had been going off in my dream... I was making lavender caramels for my mother and then a huge buzzer... wait, no... that was J's phone. Hastily I grabbed it, feeling him stir next to me.

"Honey, you got a call," I mumbled and handed him the phone.

"Mmmmph. I don't know this number."

"It's 1:45 AM," I said with a sigh, "Did they leave a message?"

"Nope," he replied, setting his phone on his bedside table. 

He snuggled up to me with a groan, and we tried to go back to sleep. I felt so uncomfortable, hot and cold... my pulse pounding in my ears. 

Groggily, and with a stuffy nose, I managed to slip back into the gray depths of dreams.

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DIIIING- DOOONG!

Mom smiled at me as the doorbell's sonorous tones echoed into the kitchen. 

"Good morning. She's only got the one bag. Thank you," I said to the shuttle driver as he opened the screen door, the springs groaned slightly.

"Well Honey, I'm so glad I was able to come. I'll ring you from the airport. Love you," she said quietly smiling. We hugged.

"Love you too Mom. Thank you for everything, we really appreciated your coming."

With a smile, she stepped out on to the porch, following the driver to the big blue van. 

Helping her up the step, he threw her suitcase in the back and then puttered off while I waved goodbye.

Breathing in the crisp cool air which was already beginning to sparkle with sunshine, I felt a little tired. 

I decided to go for a walk. 

I made it two blocks and had to turn around because of the blinding sunshine and the noisy, belching trucks and buses. 

Yes, I was a pansy this morning.

I am also quite certain that I looked silly, seeing as I had donned a summer dress; decided it was too cold for just that, and pulled on scrub pants and a red sweatshirt. 

The result was that my aqua skirt stuck out like a tutu under my t-shirt and hoodie, fluffed over my brown pants. 

The morning air was nice, but not quite delicious...  traces of exhaust mixing in with the smells of spring mud and budding plants.

This morning I was reminded of spring in Oklahoma: Early mornings when the dew from the thunderstorm the night before is still misty, and the smell of sprinklers and moist clay mix with the smell of cool shale in the shade and wet concrete. 

In Vermont, spring smells like mud, cows and melting snow. 

When I think of spring, I largely choose to remember Oklahoma as a kid.

 I remember "helping," my father in the garden and flower beds, getting more peat moss on my person that in the topsoil. 

I remember the brilliant hue of marigolds and their spicy smell. The purple and yellow pansies, nodding in the sunshine. Daffodils and tulips, springy and with bright green stems waving in the light breeze.

I long for spring and summer thunderstorms, for lightening and the cool, wet, slick smell of rain. For the gray and purple afternoons that seep lazily into the night; the hush of evening silenced by the calm and quiet before the storm. 

The prologue to the rain, and the booming thunder and flashing quickening. 

Just before the lights go out and the electricity blinks and stays off, and the beeswax candles come out and light faces with their warm and soothing glow.

Peanut butter and jelly, or pimento cheese sandwiches with iced tea and oatmeal cookies for dinner. 

Spring rushes into summer.....

Lemonade and heat. Sun baking the black tar asphalt and the waves of thermals visible in the roads... the grasses crunching and dry.

The longing for more rains, rains that will save the plains, begins. 

I'm not truly convinced that CO really knows what drought means... beyond fire that is. 

We know fire in CO.

I mean droughts that happen every, single year. Droughts that make families weep, not because of evacuation, which is terrifying in and of itself, but tears shed because the crops are dying. Financial ruin may not be far behind. 

My thoughts will be in the plains and the mountains this summer... I will always do dances...

For rain.

Now, however, spring has finally arrived.

Unless it snows again.

Which I cannot say will make me sad... not really.