Posts Tagged ‘honor’

Sunshine

June 14, 2018

And tan lines.

Yeah.

I have some of those.

It was a rare San Francisco day of sunshine with no fog and a perfect mid-seventies temperature.

I actually wore a sundress and sandals.

I did not wear layers.

I even left the house with only a light jean jacket, though, I will admit, I was a touch nervous about that, I usually go out and about with a sweatshirt and the jean jacket and tights under most of my dresses.

“Where are your clothes?!” My little lady charge asked me today.

She meant, where are my tights, I don’t think that she has ever seen my bare legs.

Not many folks have!

It’s not often bare legged weather here in the city.

Which is why I’m so excited for New York.

Where I will work on my tan line for sure.

I jest about the tan line.

I have no need to lie about in a swimsuit, I just find amusement from the obvious demarcation of white skin next to brown on my cleavage.

I got a touch more sun today than I thought I would and even though I wore sunblock I definitely picked up a lot of color.

It’s nice though.

So nice.

To be outside for work.

I’m not always, but I got to take the baby to music class today and then to the Upper Noe Valley Rec Center for a while.

The park was packed.

Everyone was out.

The weather, like I said, was spectacular.

It made me feel buoyant and uplifted and happy.

Sunshine makes me very happy.

Especially on my face, on my body.

I like being warm.

Not super hot, but warm and toasty.

I got plenty of that today.

I also mostly just had the baby which was nice too.

We spent time in the back yard as well, hence the additional sunshine that probably tipped me over into the obvious tan line arena.

I love that they family has a nice back yard.

It’s not overly styled or groomed, but it is sweet and has trees and grass and it’s well maintained.

I appreciate being able to be outside and just sprawl on the lawn.

Sprawling on the lawn is something I think of from living in the Midwest.

I don’t often miss Wisconsin, but when I do, it tends to be summertime.

The warm, soft air at night, the lakes around Madison, the farmer’s market around the capitol building, hanging out on the terrace at the UW.

Or taking the ferry-boat in Merrimac to Devil’s Lake to go swimming.

Floating on an inflated rubber tube and staring up into the endlessly impossible blue, blue, bluest eye sky.

I wouldn’t mind a week of that.

But no more.

Maybe not even that much.

Maybe four days of Wisconsin, like a long weekend.

My best friend from back home left me a message yesterday about how we need to get together sometime this upcoming year, but family, etc. gets in the way.

I know the feeling, although for me it’s school and therapy clients.

I don’t know when the next time I will get to the Midwest and that’s ok, I do love it here in San Francisco and it’s really where I belong.

I was quite happy driving into work this morning and grateful to allow myself the perspective of how lucky I am that I am still here.

And how much certain times of year and qualities of light remind me of my childhood.

I believe I sought solace in the landscape and in the sky and there is something about the blue sky next to the ocean that seems so interwoven into my being.

I feel comforted by that sky and I was today.

And warmed.

And toasted.

I felt happy for no particular reason.

That was nice too.

Just feeling present and alive and happy.

Not worried about what will happen next.

Just doing the next thing in front of me.

There’s quite a lot of relief in that.

And!

Oh!

I got a message today from my school.

My diploma is in!

I can go pick it up from the registrar’s office.

Tomorrow!

My boss told me I didn’t actually need to be in until 11 a.m. so I will take advantage of that extra time and go downtown and pick up my diploma.

I am very excited.

I recently took a print to get framed at Cheap Pete’s and I was ogling the certificate frames and there was one I really liked and I was fantasizing about framing my Master’s Degree diploma in it.

I had no idea I would get it so fast.

It was lead to believe that it wouldn’t be available until July.

Then again.

I made every possible effort to get my graduation materials in early and on time.

I roll like that.

I figure when I get the call to pick up the print I’m having framed I will bring my diploma in with me and get the pretty certificate frame there.

I don’t know that I’ll hang it on the wall here.

I don’t know how long I’m going to be here.

But I will hang it.

And having it framed, for me, honors the work that I did to get it.

It’s a big damn deal.

It deserves a special frame.

I can’t wait to get it.

So yeah.

Today was full of sunshine.

It was just what I needed.

Seriously.

 

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Got The Shot

November 17, 2017

Thank God.

For a minute today, and oh did I get to practice acceptance, I thought that I wasn’t going to be able to get the shot, but I did.

I did.

The shot I’m referring to is the professional photograph that the producers of People Who Usually Don’t Lecture requested.

They want a photograph for publicity purposes.

Eek.

Publicity.

Scary and kind of cool all at the same time.

I sent them a photo I had taken of myself mid-summer, but they requested I send them a photograph that wasn’t taken on my phone.

Sigh.

I’m pretty damn good at taking a selfie, I’m not sure what that implies about me, narcissist, vain, self-involved, maybe, but I do know my angles when it comes to taking my own photo.

I usually take a lot and from certain angles.

I know my best side.

But fuck.

When it’s someone else taking my picture I’m horrible.

Weird ass smile, wrinkled forehead, strange faces, odd ball angles, I manage to look much heavier than I am, I have no clue what to look at where to focus and I’m goofy.

Thank goodness for my dear friend who took time out of her very busy day to help me.

At first I felt like it just wasn’t going to happen, she had a lot going on and I felt a tad guilty about asking her to spend time doing something pro bono, but she told me to get my butt to her studio in the Mission and we got the job done.

I sprung for lunch and got take out from FarmHouse.

And I must say, slight aside, fucking good food.

Really good.

I was impressed.

And I just had the Tom Kha Soup with chicken and some brown rice, but fuck, it was delicious and might be the best Tom Kha I’ve had in the city.

I will be going back, if the soup was that freaking good I’m sure the rest of the food is.

Plus I really liked the decor and it had a warm, vibrant feeling to it.

Anyway.

I picked up lunch and we got a chance to connect and I gave her the down low on life and school and all the things.

So good to reconnect.

And to get the shot.

Yes.

A lot of them were absolute duds.

Not her fault, nope, me and my self-conscious posing.

But we got there and I’m super happy with the resulting photograph.

I’m not sure how many she took, but probably close to a 100 frames.

Which we narrowed down to 16 shots, then six and finally two.

I sent the two off to the producers and I’m done.

Well.

With this part of the process anyway.

I still, obviously, have to do the lecture, but the photograph was a stress that I wasn’t expecting.

Gratefully my friends studio is close to my internship, I wasn’t on my scooter today with the rain, no thank you, and I didn’t have to travel far from her spot to where I needed to be next.

I had a bunch of time in between the photo shoot and my client, so I popped into a cafe and did two hours of reading.  I finished my Jungian Dream Work reading for the semester and got a good bit into my Transpersonal reading.

That felt great.

And I had done a good hour of homework before I headed out the door to do the photo shoot.

I finished almost all my CBT reading, which is good as I have a webinar I have to attend on Sunday.

I also finished all my reading for my Drug and Alcohol class.

So for Jungian Dream Work and for Drug and Alcohol I could actually start writing the final papers for the class if I wanted to.

That also is a nice feeling.

I feel like I won’t start the writing for that yet, I want to focus on getting the rest of my reading done for my other classes and finishing the online components for the classes that have that requirement.

There’s still so much to do, but having made a big jump into the material today, I feel like I will be able to address all the reading by the end of the weekend.

Even with seeing three clients tomorrow and having to go in before my group supervision on Saturday to do a rehearsal for the People Who Usually Don’t Lecture folks.

It will be the first rehearsal with all the people who are speaking.

There are seven of us.

I’m super curious.

I know one of the participants, it was his story that had a bit of our relationship in it that piqued the producers into wanting to meet with me.

It will be great to see him and hear his piece.

I’ve read a good bit of it, it’s a great piece.

I’m certain that the caliber of speakers is going to be quite high.

I have rehearsed my piece once a night since writing it.

I don’t want to let down the producers.

And, well, it’s a fun thing to be participating in, and it’s not school related or work related or client related.

Although.

Ha.

I do talk about all those things in my lecture–work, school, my internship–just with a much different slant than I typically think about my life.

It’s my story and I know it really well, but they, the producers, had me sharpen certain things and I’m eager to do the work to be polished and participate in the project.

It feels like an honor to have been included.

I don’t want to let anyone down.

So it was really with much gratitude and happiness that the photo turned out so well.

Super grateful.

Super excited.

And ready to focus on the next thing in front of me.

Lots of life, lots of school work, and no little love.

So much love.

Grateful to focus on that too.

Beyond my ability to write about it.

But something I read earlier really summed it up, so perhaps I will end on a little quote from my Jungian Dream Work class reading.

“I falter before the task of finding the language which might adequately express the incalculable paradoxes of love.”

C. G. Jung

Honor That Love

December 28, 2015

He said to me on the phone.

I hold deep capacities for love.

Sometimes that feels utterly overwhelming.

I sat here, in my chair, home and felt a wave of sadness go over me and said, “self, just have the feeling.”

And.

So I did.

I can lift my face up to the love, I can grow towards it, I can bask in it, I can honor it.

I can love.

And not be loved back.

I can love and not feel that I have to be compensated for that love.

I can see.

I can be seen.

I can be authentic and lovely and lovelorn all at the same time.

I believe.

I do.

That we all have this deep capacity for love.

Not everyone allows themselves to feel it, however, or it gets buried under afraid and not getting enough, not being in control, in the need for validation, approval, acceptance.

I accept, validate, and approve myself.

And I let the love shine like a light above me, something I can grow towards and through.

Not something that I have to fall into and drown.

These are new ideas for me.

To hold love and not expect a return.

I realize too, that I have expected returns from the earliest of ages, and that it is a constant letting go of that expectation.

I am the romance of a lifetime and I get to have these intense, beautiful, full, astonishing feelings.

Sometimes.

I really don’t want them.

But I also know that I have the capacity to hold it, the heart breaks, the heart breaks open, the heart grows in its ability to hold more.

At least mine does.

As I look about my small, but so beautifully appointed space I am ever so grateful that I have this nest of love to nestle in.

I was quite grateful for the space my friend and I stayed in while we were visiting Paris, but it’s not home, and home, oh, she is a lovely place.

I got back mid/late afternoon and like a good camper, unpacked, organized, and put away all my things.

Including doing a load of laundry, going through the mail, and writing out the rent check for January.

A quick run to the grocery store to get a few supplies.

I didn’t have it in me to cook today.

In fact, it feels like I don’t have it in me to do a whole hell of a lot.

So, the feelings leak out and instead of drowning in them, I let them happen.

Such a relief to already have seen them go past and to wave to them from the opposite shore.

I am sure that they will be back, but in this moment I am, as it was suggested honoring the love I grow towards and honoring myself and my abilities to try new things and go and have experiences.

Paris.

What an experience.

It is a little mind bending to think that yesterday I wandered the Marais, and today I am in the Outer Sunset of San Francisco.

I got to have one more last fabulous meal with my dear friend at Cantine du Troquet in the 15th.

I ordered with confidence and even made substitutions.

Ha.

I have to admit my French is not the best in the world, but it felt grand to be understood and to be able to ask for what I needed.

Of course.

I can forget.

Case in point.

The meal today on the plane.

Nothing I could eat.

Like.

Nothing.

And I sighed, accepted, drank some water and adjusted myself to what was happening.

A few minutes later, while I was watching a movie, my friend plunks down next to me and hands me three clementines.

That is love.

I grow toward it.

I smiled.

That small kindness.

Three small clementines, cold from the flight, but warming to my heart, and I am full, replete, and soothed.

And here.

In my space.

Feeling that same warmth.

Surrounded by beautiful things, small reminders of my trip, of my travels, now and previous, the lights around me warm, the candles lit, the bed made.

Oh.

How I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.

So very much.

I actually slept quite a lot on the plane.

I set my watch when the time was noted and moved than hands on the face forward ten hours and saw that it was early morning here, that I would be asleep if I was in San Francisco and vowed at the moment to try to let myself drift away into the sleep so that I could reset my own body clock without too harsh a contradiction.

I dozed in and out and I actually believe I got in a few good hours here and there and passed much of the time in sleep on the plane.

A good way to travel.

Then.

Home.

Customs.

Waiting for luggage.

This was my first trip in a very, very, very long time that I checked baggage.

In fact, I can’t recollect a time previous in the last ten years that I checked, so waiting at Charles de Gaulle for my bag and again at SFO was a different experience.

It took longer than I expected, but I got through and got a ride home from the airport, hugged my friend, and came inside.

To be greeted by my sweet, dear home.

Ah.

Home.

Then the feelings came as I unpacked and though I tried to hold them at bay for awhile, doing the laundry, running to the market, sorting and situating, the feelings had to get out.

And.

They did.

And I am grateful for that.

Grateful I can feel so many things.

Grateful I know love to the depth of my being and even beyond.

That I have so much to give and feel.

Yes.

I love hard.

And.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I really wouldn’t.

My life is better for it.

I am better for it.

The white velvet light of it.

The richness of it, the swelter and glow.

The sweetness of a clementine in my mouth.

And.

The capacity to dream.

Dream.

Love.

Grow.

Shine.

Let me be that beacon.

I am honored in it.

I lean into it.

I accept it.

And I forgive myself for ever looking outside of myself for it.

I have all the love I need in the world.

And.

Probably.

Quite a bit.

More.

Celebrate

March 8, 2015

I just got home from a celebration of ladies.

I think that’s what a group of gals should be called, a celebration.

Not a school, or a pack, or a clique, or a posse.

A celebration.

These women are amazing and it was with much glee and joy and laughter that I spent my evening in Oakland.

Oh yeah.

I took the trek.

It was worth it.

The N-Judah alone took almost an hour, what with the crowded train, the longer wait between trains, weekend hours, and the fact that it was the Chinese New Year’s parade downtown.

I got onto a packed train.

Packed.

And it was the second stop from the beginning of the line.

Add to the mix the folks that had made the trek out to the beach, it was fine beach weather out here today.

I had me some sit outside in the sun time before I headed over to the East Bay, oh yes I did.

Prefaced by some get right with God and a bicycle ride to and from the Inner Sunset, some coffee and catch up and check in at Tart to Tart and a little bit of grocery shopping.

I did not cram eighteen things into my day before heading over either, although I was wanting to.

I am slowly, slowly, learning the art of slowing down.

It has taken years.

“You will make a great therapist,” she said to me tonight sotto voce at the dinner table.

We held hands and talked.

It was her celebration, but in the bringing together of the women, it was a celebration of us all.

I got a little toast for getting into graduate school.

Another lady for starting a new job with a big, big, big company.

One woman for committing to partnering up and moving in together with her boyfriend.

That’s a big move.

Cheers for a trip to Bali.

A toast for another lady about to do her dissertation in PsiD.

A trip to Bali.

Burning Man plans.

Atlanta plans.

Of the ten woman at the table, eight of us are going to Atlanta.

It’s going to be off the chain.

I’m not sure Atlanta knows what’s coming for it.

I sat silent at times, looking around the faces of these beautiful, smart, funny, my God so funny, women, and was absolutely awed that I got to be in their company.

Beauty permeated the group, but not just the physical, though, truth be told, we were the best looking party in the place, the noisiest too, perhaps, but definitely the table having the most enjoyment in the restaurant.

The laughter loud and fast and silly and intoxicating, but not drunken or stupid or vapid.

What an astounding group of women I thought to myself, world travelers, lovers, friends, co-conspirators, women with big hearts and dreams and goals.

I thought about what I had and was grateful.

I have a place at this table.

I am invited to partake.

I could have talked myself out, but I have been making a concerted, for me, effort, to get out of my comfort zone a little every week and be of the world.

I can get very easily caught up in the routine of writing, work, doing the deal, and more writing.

I can get caught up trying to make things look perfect and controlled, getting the grocery shopping done at this time on this date while negotiating my laundry and cooking and food prep and the doing instead of the being.

I need a full busy schedule.

But I need this community too.

They inspire me and when I am inspired, I get to do the same for others.

“Oh, I love your blog,” one of the women said, out of the blue at the table between courses.

I had oysters to celebrate, God I love me some oysters, and as I flipped the shell over of an tiny, briny, delicious bite of Miyagi drenched in lemon juice, I realized how much that same woman had inspired me years before I had gone to Paris by her own little world tour walk about.

To hear that she read my blog warmed me.

I will be continuing in this vein by attending a baby shower in Berkeley next week and then the following by going to out to Alcatraz to see the Ai Weiwei exhibit with a darling girlfriend.

This is how I get to be.

When I allow myself to be.

Surrounded by bright women who move me with their grace and joyful spirits.

“Look around the table, look at your community,” she said to me.  “You belong, and you’re going to be amazing.”

She’s a therapist.

She should know.

She confided that she always thought I should pursue therapy but question whether as a therapist it was something to encourage in me considering our relationship and common bonds within our community.

It was such lovely validation.

“You are so serene, you can sit and you are so calm,” she smiled at me.

I felt seen and was honored to hear it from her.

I told her my goals.

Three years graduate school.

Two to three years interning.

Private practice by the time I am 50.

That really sounds like a reasonable goal to me.

Yes, it’s about 8 years out.

And yes, I am fine with that.

I can see it.

You see.

I can see it.

I can see the space and it is bright and beautiful, warm and inviting, full of light and art and grace.

Like the women sitting around me at the table tonight.

I can see it.

I am honored to get to walk this path with these women and I hope to do them well.

I desire to put the best of myself forward.

I am going to stumble and I am going to be an idiot and I am going to forget the warmth of that fire and yes, I’ll try to isolate too, but I will always find my way back.

And the space between the time at the table and the time by myself will grow shorter as I realize that I am not alone, that I belong.

That I have a seat at the table with them.

An honor and a privilege to be included.

That there is a place for me.

 


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