Catching up: or, Waking through

This is going to be one of those stream-of-consciousness posts. I’m not sure what to write, so I’m just going to start writing. There is something that wants to come out, and I’m not sure what it is, so let’s see…

I spent much of the day yesterday going up and down the front hill with a weed-whacker, but everything looks great now. The roses are blooming, and the vinca is putting out flowers too. The back deck is covered with jasmine and honeysuckle (yes, on purpose). I still have two big trashbags full of monkeygrass to plant, and some trimming to do, and sometime soon I’m going to have to get into that pond and pull out all the leaves, and trim back the yellow irises that have fallen down.

Note to self: Still to do – replace the screen door, change the basement lock, figure out why we don’t have good water pressure in the house, paint the kitchen before the new floor is installed.

I’m not doing any of that this weekend. I’m sore from head to toe, and more sore in some places than others.

There are serious constrictions on blogging about work, but I can say that I’m really enjoying the company and the job. I’m surrounded by some very talented and fun people, and I’m learning a lot every day. It’s been very good for my sense of well-being. I feel that I’m contributing something worthwhile, and after this upcoming professional conference, I’ll have some new tools to do even more.

I’m also very happy with Comcast, despite all the bad press they seem to have. I’ve been able to get good customer service, and I have all the cable channels I want, plus faster internet, and good phone service. I’m still looking for the best cellular phone deal – this AT&T GoPhone I’ve got is pretty expensive. There are some local services, but I want good coverage.

I’ve been doing my usual reading and playing on Facebook and listening to my iPod and playing with Ben and doing laundry and all those other kinds of things. John and I have been re-watching Twin Peaks, and that’s been fun. I had forgotten how utterly obsessive and haunting it was. It makes me miss Bev, though, since we watched the original together in Iowa City.

I’ve been posting some news items on the Facebook page, but lately I somehow haven’t felt inspired to blog. Some of it is probably fatigue. Although I appreciate how many more people can be involved in the political process when the Democratic candidate hasn’t been chosen, I’m starting to become a little tired of the whole thing. So irresponsible of me, I know, but all the petty micro-stories don’t address anything of importance to me. I’ve been more interested in the stories that don’t get as much coverage – there do seem to be little signs of hope here and there in the way some things are being handled. It just takes so long…

One of the signs that my life is going well is that I’ve gained ten pounds. When I’m miserable I get bone-thin because I don’t eat. Well, not a problem now, so I guess I must be relatively happy. On the other hand, I can’t afford any wardrobe shrinkage, so I’m on my every-once-in-a-while strategy of paying a little attention to what I eat. My weight seems to go up and down rather effortlessly – even now, even as I’m a bit older – so it’s not really any big deal unless I keep gaining.

It’s springtime, and I’m hoping that before long the poetry bug will hit me again. It’s strange the way it comes and goes.

There is a feeling of the uncanny surrounding me lately. In one way, it’s a very simple thing. I’m pretty happy overall, and I’m not sure how to actually absorb or process that because it is still a bit unfamiliar, but it’s also recognizable – if in a slightly unheimlich way – if I stop to notice it. The pains I still have are sweet pains – bittersweet, and so — and thus — worthy and valuable in their own ways. I wonder how long it can last, but meanwhile, I’m sending all praises to the board at Benevolent Deities, Inc, and bowing in humble gratitude before the dear mercy of the One. I shall at least have moments to remember and recall, and habits of being to whirl up again after whenever that big boot decides to arrive and stomp on my head. I know that hope and faith and love will sustain me.

As cynical as I can sometimes be, I do deeply appreciate every moment of life, each moment, moment by moment. The quality of the moments and episodes that shimmer make everything worthwhile to me. What more reward could I possibly desire than the ability to make choices through the sublime heights, and the meaningful depths, and the sparking fragments, and the interpenetrating worlds?

Whether in solitude or in relation, in detachment or immersion, through reflection and transcendence and multi-vocal reflexivity, through the sacred spaces within or the artificial carving-up of realities without, conceptualizing and imagining and sensing and feeling, in dialogue or in wordless calm standing-there, as a vital component of the being-between and the negotiation and navigation of the gaps, through the sometimes-leaky boundaries, in diverse modes of human being and non-being – and hospitable towards the other-within and the other-without and even the totally Other, even in lack of understanding, even in frustration, it is good. Despite every challenge, it is all good. The trivial and the profound are all bound up together. Smiles and laughter and joy are all allowed. I allow myself – at last – just to be. Just to be, for a little while.

“Just to be?” That’s what I couldn’t see? That’s what wanted to emerge? I’m an idiot. Of course! (Whacking the side of my head)

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