Posts Tagged ‘Space Cowboys Collective’

Profoundly Happy

March 16, 2014

“We absolutely insist on enjoying life,” she told me adamantly today from across the table at Tart to Tart.

I am.

I swear.

“That’s your principle today, happiness.”

Enough said.

I am down with the getting happy.

I had a happy day.

I was, I realized, as I was riding my bicycle, slowly, obeying all traffic laws, ahem, through the Irving Street melee of Saturday afternoon parking, shopping, pedestrians, and drunken Irish revelers in green beads and sequined foam green top hats, that I was profoundly, deeply happy.

Part of it is a sense memory from being a child.

I grew up out here, remember, until I was just about five years old, so my earliest memories are of the area, most specifically what I seem to remember the most is the sun, the sky, the smell of ocean.

I was  sailing my bicycle down Irving, once I was through the crazy of 19th to 25th, Irving gets really quiet and it’s such a pretty, straight shot, right to the ocean, the sun was warm on my skin, my hair blowing off my face, the wind cool, and there, just there, a swelling of memory like a song of joy in my body.

This warmth, this sun, this wind, some of my earliest feelings of contentment and joy.

I felt a vast yearning to call my mom and say, thank you for having me in California.  Thank you for not birthing me in Wisconsin, thank you for planting the California seed deep in my heart.

I am glad for my Mid-Western upbringing, I like manners, I like hearing the sound of Mason jars popping when I canned my soup this afternoon, I like that I know how to cook soup and make jam and pie crusts from hand, I like that I know what the sound of snow falling on snow sounds like and the smell of wood burning sharp on a cold night in January.

However, the deep sensual feel of sunshine and wind on my skin that blows in from the ocean is one of my most cherished sensory memories and I was so softened with the emotion of being in the moment with the sun and the wind and the vast, deep indigo expanse of the ocean unfurling in front of me.

I wanted to stop all time, because all time had become right now, right with God, right in my body, right with happy and joyous and free.

Nothing says happy, joyous free, like riding a bicycle down the middle of the road with no traffic, in a new dress, with my hair blowing out behind me and the sun smothering me in warmth and light.

I felt like I was a song.

Just a bicycle ride you know, but something lovely and sweet and powerful in that.

I laughed earlier today as I had gotten up and showered, written, meditated, read,  ate breakfast, drank coffee, did trash and recycling, chatted with the housemate, tidied up and realized I had more than enough time to go grocery shopping too, and I rode my bicycle along the path that runs parallel to Ocean Beach on my way to the store.

How many folks can say that they ride their bicycles to the grocery store to buy laundry detergent while the Pacific Ocean keeps them company?

Not many I say.

Some, yes, but not many.

And I get to have this experience.

I suppose the novelty will eventually wear off and then I will be just going to the SafeWay on Fulton and it will be a chore, but right now, I revel in the going to SafeWay.

Not something I have ever, ever said before.

Most of the time I despise Safeway.

But, I have to say, this one is not so bad, oh, I still have to do my real shopping thereafter, I almost never get what I really need there, but I do get some staples–paper towels, a few toiletries, today it was for laundry detergent.  I think it’s partially because it’s not one of the newer remodeled ones with the weird lighting.

I got my stuff, headed back to the house, unloaded and went right back out in the opposite direction and got organic apples at the Noriega Produce Market, and then jetted it up to 7th and Irving, managing to also send off my niece’s birthday card and present at the post office.

Not bad actions to be taking all before noon.

On my return to the homestead I made soup.

Yup.

Food prep done for the week.

Chicken soup with kidney beans, cannelli beans, corn, carrots, celery, onions, and garlic, big pot of brown rice.  I canned it all up and set aside some in the freezer and boom.

Done for the week.

Toss it in the bag, grab a couple of carrot sticks and an apple and I am set.

So nice to have it out-of-the-way.

Then.

Relax.

Read.

Sit and sip some tea and enjoy the view of the blue sky flecked with the passing raven or three winging through the air over the back yard.

I read for an hour, did some laundry, then headed back out the door around 4p.m. to run up to Noe Valley where I had an evening commitment, but not until after I went and got a spa manicure and pedicure.

I splurged a little and went to the nicer place.

I realize that part of being profoundly happy is allowing for small splurges like this (besides the manicure lasts days longer then when I go to a cheap place) and letting in the happy.

I also allowed myself to buy tickets to go dancing next Friday, there’s a benefit at Public Works for the Flaming Lotus Girls–The Space Cowboy Collective will be playing along with Distrikt and the crew from Opulent Temple–great dance music and girlfriends.

I randomly saw a post on facecrack that a friend was contemplating going and I just decided to say yes and I bought a ticket, then Bonne said she got one and then Jesse got one and Beth got one and Tami got one and holy shit, I got a posse of girls to go dancing with next Friday.

And if that doesn’t make a girl profoundly happy.

I don’t know what does.

 


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