Posts Tagged ‘Bryce Canyon’

There’s Carmen!

July 17, 2015

“I just wanted to let you know that’s been me hollering at you on the way to work,” she said with a laugh and patted me on the arm.

“I see you all the time and you wave, but I don’t think you know who is yelling at you,” her eyes twinkled and I laughed.

“That was you!”  I smiled, “I was wondering who’s been giving me the hello’s.”

It’s nice to be seen.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently.

Allowing myself to be seen.

“You have to know that whatever happens, you meet the love of your life at Burning Man,” I pushed my friend’s shoulder, “no, I mean it, that whatever happens, this is important.”

And it is.

And there was a lot more said, but I am not comfortable relaying all that here.

Suffice to say.

I am being seen.

And as for meeting the love of my life at Burning Man.

I already did.

It’s me.

I stopped Calling in the One when I realized that I was the Beloved and that I was the love of my life and no one will love me as hard or as well as I love me.

That being said, it’s a constant practice, a constant, not struggle, it’s not a struggle any more, it used to be; rather a concerted and continuous work of being kind to myself, taking care of myself, loving myself.

Letting myself express myself and be who I am.

I am many things and as I learn to be continually open to vulnerability and emotional connection in the very real and the very present time, I get to see how deep the damage has been in my life.

And.

How far I have come.

I mean.

Really.

I have made amazing strides in my life and to not acknowledge that is a kind of affront to the work I have put in.

It is not all work though.

I must have some fun in the mix.

For instance.

I had two unexpected cancellations for this Saturday.

I have to get some fun in my Saturday.

I do still have plans, I’m helping a friend with some stuff, but I have extra time on my hands to find a little fun for me.

Whatever that looks like.

Some fellowship, some cards, some pinball, a museum jaunt.

I would love to see the Turner exhibit at the DeYoung.

I keep hearing great things about it and I have not been to the DeYoung in a while.

I do have things I need to attend to, book gathering, loan deferment paperwork, cooking, et al, the stuff and routine of life.

A mani and pedi.

The small pleasures that I allow myself to have are important to the quality of my life.

Framing the Marilyn print from the MOCA and hanging the Diebenkorn up in my room.

I am negotiating a ride out to Cheap Pete’s in the Inner Richmond to get that together.

I’m navigating other rides too.

It does indeed look like I will get to have a little more summer vacation before the work, the study, the balancing act of what my life is going to look like come school start, begins.

I am currently in the planning stages of going to the Grand Canyon.

I have never been and I am over the moon excited.

My friend and I would leave on a Tuesday, July 28th and head to the North Rim and a secret special spot for camping that a friend of his knows about that is not heavily touristed.

There has been talk of Monumental Valley and Bryce Canyon as well.

To tell you the truth.

I know nothing.

I really have no conception of what is out there and what it looks like and what I exactly want to see.

Except.

I want a road trip.

I love the open road, I love seeing new things, I love the vista from the car seat, I love watching the sky scroll by, I love singing along to songs on the radio, I love putting my feet, bare feet, up on the console of the car and scrunching up in my seat and being just simply free, happy and content, and I love telling stories on the road.

There is just something so soothing and satisfying about it.

Plus camping?

Please.

Bring it on.

Campfires underneath the stars, country, out of the city for a while, back roads, which I suppose we won’t actually do if we are going to get in what my friend has suggested, there’s also been talk of Death Valley and maybe squeaking in the top part of Yosemite, not going into the valley itself but driving along Tioga Road.

Again.

No clue.

No conception.

I suppose I could google some images, but open road, is well, open road.

And I love me a road trip.

Plus, more time with my friend before the onslaught of school.

More being seen.

More being myself.

More allowing abundance and joy and fun and flexibility into my life.

“Joy of living is my principle today,” I said into the phone and smiled at the imprint of flower blossoms, pink and fat and truculent against the sky blue sky.

It might have been because I got a ride to work and that’s a treat.

It could have been that the weather was kind and sunny and inviting and I do so much better in the sun than out of the sun.

It could be that tomorrow is Friday.

Whatever it was I was going to enjoy it, to keep enjoying it and be as present as possible every inch of the way.

Even when it was hard.

“Hit Carmen! Hit Carmen!” The oldest brother instigated his brother in a game of, well, I can’t tell you what the game was, it was high energy though, and when I went to pick up the three-year old for our outing to the park I got hit, hard, in the face, brought to tears, this kid does not know his own strength.

“You,” I said to the five-year old, “to your room, five minutes, no talking.”

I pointed to the door and he fled.

I picked up the three-year old I had abruptly set down on the bed.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

We saw each other.

His eyes got wide and teary.

“Please, please, please, don’t hit me,” I said to him.

Then I paused.

I could see he was about to get pretty upset and I wanted to be stern, but not too stern.

I wanted him to see me, to know that I was hurt.

I also knew that he would probably forget, as he did in about five minutes, and I would get smacked again (he’s in a phase, but I think it’s passing), but for the moment, in the moment we connected.

He saw me.

“I’m sorry Carmen, what can I do to make it better?”

Oh.

Out of the mouths of babes.

“I could use a hug, sweet pie.”

He gave me a hug and burrowed into my arms, then off we went on our adventure.

The grandparents accompanied us to the park for one last outing before they left on the plane today.

There was much digging of sand and pouring of buckets and shovels flying and dump trucks dumping and when that became mundane, there was grandma to push the swing.

And.

One sweet five-year old boy.

“Carmen,” he said plopping down next to me on the cement wall, “I just want to sit next to you and eat grapes.”

He leaned into me.

“I love you too much.”

Oh.

My heart.

Little pie.

I love you too.

I love hard.

I live hard.

I try hard not to be seen.

Yet.

There I am.

Being seen and allowing myself the freedom to be exactly who I am in the exact moment of whatever is happening.

It is an amazing gift.

Astounding.

This love.

Bright.

Sweet.

Tender.

All encompassing.

All the love.

All the things.

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The Poppins

July 11, 2015

Has placed her order.

And I am just about done with my Burning Man prep.

See lady, it wasn’t so bad.

Of course, its vastly helpful that the folks I’m camping with are pretty much providing my shelter, that’s a load off my mind and so much wrangling that does not have to be done.

Over the moon grateful.

Although I did have a friend offer me full access to his camping gear, I was loath to take him up on the offer.

Unless a person has been to Burning Man and seen what the wreckage of the playa can do to their things, I would not want to take someone’s nice camping gear and get it all dusty.

That being said, I would love to do some more camping outside of just Burning Man.

Yosemite.

The Grand Canyon.

Bryce Canyon.

Some Avenue of the Giants.

Joshua Tree.

There are lots of places.

Crater Lake.

I can go on.

For the now.

For the present.

For the just for today.

I am wrapping up some Burning Man supplies and making sure they get here before I leave for that great dust bowl in the Black Rock Desert.

It wasn’t much, but I got what I needed.

Zip ties.

They are magical and everyone should have a plethora.

A new purple flag pennant to replace my old one, it’s pretty beat up, on my bicycle.

And also for my bicycle some more lights.

I have wheel lights on the front wheel, but I also got some solar-powered lights I’m going to string up along the frame for night-time illumination and riding.  I don’t particularly care about seeing with my lights, so much as being seen.

And yes, one pair of tights.

Just because I like the tights.

My Burning Man uniform routinely consists of tights, boots, tank tops, and boy shorts with a holster, a bunch of fabric flowers in my hair, bright makeup, and a parasol.

And last, but certainly not least, that’s right, I made sure to order a new parasol.

Since I left the one I bought in Atlanta on the plane and well, haha, the one I ordered online will match my bicycle and well, that’s how I like to roll.

Glittery, purple, flowered, bedazzled up.

Sparkly.

The Poppins is ready to ride.

And in other news.

Yes.

It’s Friday.

I thought I had some plans this evening with a friend and I haven’t heard back from him, so I might be staying in for the evening, but what a lovely evening it is.

We had talked about doing a bonfire in my back yard again and it is most definitely the night for it, the air was lovely riding home through the park and though not warm, it’s not chilly out there like it normally is this time of year–you know, July.

In fact, when the sun came out today and lit up the Mission like diamonds I was happily surprised by the warmth and the blue skies.

July being notorious in San Francisco for cool, foggy, grey weather.

Speaking of bicycle.

Man, she is riding like a dream.

I don’t think I realized how desperate she was for some love and attention.

I have a tendency to do that with my things, beat on them, ride them hard, not take care of them as well as I should.

But.

I gradually get better and I recognize that proper care of my property ends up being better for me and I get to keep having nice things.

I ran into my friend who helped me through the scooter fiasco and the getting it recycled at Scooter Centre et al, and he asked when I was going back to buy the Buddy Italia in Avocado with racing stripes.

I shrugged.

I don’t know.

I am on the fence to tell you the truth.

The ride home through the park is so glorious, it’s luscious when the air is like it is tonight and I felt that I would miss the riding if I had the scooter.

Plus, I don’t want to outlay any money right now.

I am going to be going down to part-time in September with work and yes, I did get a lot of money awarded me to go to graduate school–but that’s just going to be paying for tuition, not so much living expenses.

I am currently weighing whether or not I should pre-pay a bunch of rent so I don’t have to be concerned with it or if I should sock it all away in my savings account and collect some interest on it before paying a lot of rent upfront.

Neither here nor there, I suppose.

I’m currently not sitting on that money.

The awards letter still has not arrived.

And.

The reader I e-mailed about to start getting my materials together is not in stock at the store I e-mailed.

I have vowed that over the weekend I will sit down, look at all my files and information regarding the syllabus and make a list of what I need to get and where to get it.

I want to have that taken care of by the end of the weekend.

Not so I can start the reading by Sunday, but just to have the ball rolling along.

It’s much easier to pick up momentum if I’m already into action.

And that’s it.

That’s all that’s on my plate.

Well.

There’s other stuff there.

But I won’t be writing about it right now.

I’m waiting to see what develops and to continue to keep the focus on what’s right in front of me.

Like.

Taking a shower.

That’s the next indicated action tonight.

Despite my desire to know more.

That’s all I need to know.

That and I have a band new lavender, pagoda style parasol.

(And some zip ties)

Coming to my mail box soon.

Mary Fucking Poppins needs her parasol.

I mean.

Really.

It wouldn’t be Burning Man.

For me.

Without one.


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