Posts Tagged ‘space’

Void In My Heart

August 11, 2017

Only you can fill it.

Love.

Fill it with love.

Fill it with joy.

Fill it with the smell of you entangled in my memories.

Fill it with the flush you bring to my face.

Fill it with flowers.

Nature abhors a vacuum.

So I have been told.

I am not empty without you, per se, but there is emptiness there.

Greater than I knew.

A spot, a space, a holding space if you will.

Patient it waits for you to step back in.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

If I grow any fonder I’ll die.

You indulge me.

You sustain me.

You light me up like a firefly on a hot summer night.

I think about that.

You.

And.

Hot summer nights.

I feel sixteen again.

Seventeen.

Wild.

Fraught with emotion.

Overfull with desire.

Wishing to abandon myself completely to you.

All the time.

You redeem me.

You rescue me.

When I did not know I needed rescuing.

When I am with you I am replete.

Full.

Ravished with happiness.

I am almost afraid to see your face.

Your eyes.

To touch you.

I will have to make sure you are real.

Not a dream.

Not wishful thinking.

But here.

In front of me.

Waiting for my touch.

Waiting for my kiss.

Waiting.

You have not left a void in me, but rather a space that is occupied.

Constantly.

Always.

Continuous with thoughts of you.

My heart overflows.

I find my face wet with tears for no reason.

I wake up and feel you in my body.

I close my eyes at night and see you there pressed against the backs of my lids.

Sometimes.

I can almost feel you beside me.

I lift my hand and can sense the contours of your face.

My heart batters inside my chest.

The state of being away from your person.

Makes me want to hoard you when I have you.

Makes me greedy and childish.

Wanton and lustful.

Wistful.

I wish to stockpile you so that I don’t feel that awful loneliness without you.

Irrational.

Love is abundant.

Infinite.

This love has no end.

No beginning.

It shelters me from the nights rain.

It lulls me to sleep.

I am held.

I am seen.

And in that seeing and holding.

I can do the same for you.

I see you.

Let me hold you.

Let me press against you and fill you up.

Full to overflowing.

With.

All.

My.

Love.

For.

You.

 

A Day Off

July 10, 2017

To remember.

Nothing striking or out of the ordinary.

But just a lovely day.

A sweet day.

A day when the fog actually lifted and I saw some sunshine, surprisingly late in the day too, it cleared off around 6:30p.m. and was clear all the way through to sunset.

Albeit chilly, it was such a welcome reprieve from the constant summer fog that I made up my mind right quick to get out into that sunshine and eat it up.

I deserved a sunshiny walk on the beach.

I did a lot today.

Laundry, grocery shopping, cooked two separate meals, both lunch and dinner so that I would have plenty of food prepped for the week and then some to toss in the freezer.

I made a sort of jambalaya, my own edited version, with shredded roast chicken, shrimp, Andouille sausage, pork, corn, black olives, onion, garlic, brown rice, crushed tomatoes.

Super yummy and I froze 3/4s of it.

I ate a big bowl for lunch, put a couple of containers in the fridge for meals and I also roasted a chicken for dinner–I happily ate salt and pepper roasted chicken with tarragon butter and brown rice that I seasoned with turmeric, Spike, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper–savory rice.

I love cooking and I love having a full fridge at the beginning of the week so I don’t have to squeeze in a shopping trip to the store when I am in the middle of a full tilt boogie schedule.

I also went to yoga and got my sweat on, super challenging class, I fell in one of the poses.

Splat!

On my belly and just laughed out loud.

So I feel, so what?

I tried the pose.

I am certain I will fall again, as long as I can laugh at myself, though, then I’m ok.

When I start taking myself to seriously then I know I am in trouble.

I met with a lady as well and did the deal and read and talked and fuck.

It was so good.

I called my person and had a good long check in.

I called a friend who’s going through a hard time and suffering a big loss.

I had a really nice and connected day.

I also took a car over to Cheap Pete’s and picked up my two prints that I brought back from Paris.

I am super happy with the way they turned out and I spent some time re-arranging the art on my walls to accommodate the new pieces.

I don’t have much space, but I think I arranged things well and I’m very pleased with the additions to my collection.

Very pleased.

I really do like my home.

It does feel like an extension of me, of my personality.

It is tiny, but it’s me and I am grateful for all the things I have and all the ways I get to express myself.

I also like that wherever I look there is something pretty to rest my eyes on.

This is my sanctuary and I adore it.

Sure.

I want more space.

But that will come when it comes.

I am experiencing this deepening of faith in places I never knew I needed to have deepened, seeing experiences and suddenly have the knowledge that though I did not know it at the time, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Seeing what I needed to see.

And being seen.

Regardless of my ignorance.

I was seen.

And all the things that have led me here were all the experiences I need to have.

So being in this little in-law at the edge of the city, by the edge of the sea, for whatever length of time I am supposed to be is quite fine by me.

I am happy.

I am warm.

My home is sweet and I have precious memories of every foot of it that make me smile when I least expect it.

I have been smiling a lot recently.

I repeat.

I am very happy.

And yes.

Life is full.

But I had such a restful day.

Yes, I did do a lot, but I found all sorts of down time too.

I read a little bit from a novel, novel that, reading something that is not psychology related, a John Updike novel I had gotten last year for my birthday.

My birthday is in December.

Ahem.

I don’t have much down time for pleasure reading, and sometimes I feel that I shouldn’t even, but in the end it was too delicious to not.

I also read a few more letters in the book of Chopin’s Letters that were sweet and nostalgia inducing.

I love the old language used, laced with bits of French.

Lines that caught my attention I underlined and starred, the turn of a phrase that I found enchanting or a sentiment that I echoed and felt stir me.

“I kiss you heartily.  Remember me as I remember you.”

And this.

“I wrote it only to arouse a pleasurable emotion, such as greetings usually produce.”

How often have I written something just for the pleasurable emotion of the writing?

So often.

And.

“I press you to my lips and say goodbye till we meet.”

And.

“Give me a kiss, My Life.”

I love how he capitalized “My Life,” how important the person to whom he is writing becomes as I read the letter.

I sat in the sun on my back porch and read these letters and glowed.

Then.

Yes.

I decided it was time for a walk on the beach and it was as I had hoped.

Deserted.

The all day long fog and chilly breezy had deterred most of the city from even bothering with going out to the beach.

I saw one tourist family picnicking.

A father and son in wetsuits with boogie boards.

A couple walking a dog.

A paddle boarder out in the surf.

And me.

There was no one there.

Me, the sand, the ocean, God.

It was beautiful.

I walked the surf, rolled my jeans up, they are still a little damp hours later where a high tide splashed me, stuck my flip-flops in my basket bag and collected seashells.

Yes.

I did.

I collected shells.

Shush.

That’s the kind of girl I am.

I write poetry and collect sea shells and I am just fine with that.

I get to be many, many, many things.

And now that my well is replenished.

I will go back to being a nanny and a therapist.

The week is full.

But full in a good way.

Thank you Sunday for your gifts.

I feel that Monday and I shall be great friends just from the beautiful reprieve I had today and all the things I got to do to take care of myself.

Luckiest damn girl in the world.

Seriously.

This Is The End

May 9, 2017

Goodbye my friend.

Well.

Perhaps not quite yet.

But.

Oh my heart.

I am going to have to stop with my blog.

Or at least this iteration of it.

I met with my supervisor for my practicum, my off site supervisor, who is deeply analytic, and who is so spooky smart it amazes me.

I also realize in the writing of that, I too am smart.

I get so much from our interactions because I too, am intelligent and it is a pleasure to be met and held and supported in that academic nature, and also just in the humanness of curiosity and the journey of being human.

I just docked my hour on Track My Hours.

I have done 21 of 3,000.

Only 2,979 to go.

Heh.

As I get closer to taking clients I will begin to shut down my blog.

I have suspected that this might need to happen and after my discussion with my supervisor today I am pretty sure that this is going to happen.

My heart hurt when I shared with him how long I have been writing this and what pleasure I find in it, but I also know that to be in service to my clients I need to drop the blog.

I need to be more anonymous on the web.

I have recently changed all my Facebook stuff to be über private and today I turned my Instagram profile to private.

I am also going to clean out my Facebook friends.

I would go do that right now, except that I want to write and not get sucked into the social media hole.

My supervisor said he uses Facebook twice a year.

TWICE.

I love that.

I also like that my friends who are off Facebook seem to be happier and more centered in their lives and irony, spending more time with their friends.

I was, in fact, quite absent from Facebook this past weekend, so, so, so much to do.

I will miss writing the blog and the responses I have gotten from it.

But.

I won’t stop writing.

I will just find a different iteration of.

I will keep blogging, but the nature of the blogging is going to be different and written with the task in mind of writing or an audience that may very well include my clients.

I love how my supervisor explained it, the perspective was not that I was going to be found out about something, but that the client needs to have the space to fantasize about who I am as a therapist.

Parent, partner, sister, friend.

That in the space held for the client I need to be whatever person they create so that they can find a different relationship then the one that they are having problems with.

I sound rather esoteric, but I understood deeply what he meant and he shared with me a very poignant example of a client with me.

I have to hold so many things and the frame is the most important.

And I was told clients would Google me and try to friend me and follow me on social media, that I might be stalked, or followed, that clients would try to find out information about me.

Now.

I am a fair open book in my blog but I can tell you that I have surprising responses to the things that I have written, more so than I can enumerate here.

People presume to know who I am.

And, they don’t.

Oh, a few have some more insights than others, but I am so many things and not all that I write about here is current day, I weave in personal history and narratives, I have themes that I return to again and again.

Those stories are precious to me and important and experiences I wouldn’t change for anything, but they are often stories.

There is me and there is the blog and they are the same.

But.

They are not one and the same.

The blog is her own character.

And I am going to be a therapist.

I need to protect myself, I will need to titrate how much social media I ingest and start to examine how I express myself in the online world.

I’m not sure about a hard stop with my blog.

But I know it can’t continue too much further.

I also will be starting my internship in two weeks and I am not going to have much time.

It may be that I have to sacrifice the  blog to that as much as to anything else.

I shall see.

I shall hold it and nurture these little blogs, my little fluffy fledgling birds of prose and see that they have a place to be saved and that I find another way to express creatively and in a manner that resonates with myself and my need to be an artist.

A poet.

An author.

I thought about that.

Maybe I find my outlet by writing a book.

Maybe I start a completely new blog.

Maybe I tailor sharply this one.

Even the name is personal.

I am Auntie Bubba.

But that name has a history, a story, an origin and that is from my family and I don’t know that I want my future clients to know that my family nickname is Bubba.

Um.

Hahahaha.

NO.

I have taken a few small actions today to start the de-escalation of social media.

I know I have an old LinkedIn account that needs to be cleaned up.

I will winnow out the Facebook friends and start really thinking about how to navigate the blog and what I will do instead.

What would happen if I put a hard stop to it when I go to Paris?

It feels sad but also, interesting.

What space might be created for something else.

Something new and surprising.

A new chapter.

A new work.

A new journey.

A new experience.

All the things.

Finding Space

September 17, 2015

in between the spaces.

I took an hour this morning that I did not even think I had.

I took it anyway.

I read school work for an hour instead of getting my nails done.

But I have a date tomorrow.

Who cares.

The man met you in a white out dust storm at Burning Man and took you into his bed despite not having shaved or showered in four days, that’s tasty to contemplate, he is not going to give a fuck about your nails.

But.

He will give a fuck if you’re distracted pants because you feel like you need to be taking care of business.

So.

I took care of fucking business today.

I sat my ass back down at my table, when I was really and truly about to go out the door.

I did my own nails and read for an hour.

I finished and caught up with a second class of work.

I already did the paper that is due for that class, so one down three to go.

Oh.

And look there, yes, the reading load is horrific, really lady, stop already, but I don’t have a paper due until the 2nd of October, I thereby have breathing space.

I still need to get a lot done and I have a group project that I have to work on as well, but there is space.

There is time.

When I sit still.

I find there is more time than I thought.

And.

When I am not procrastinating I feel more competent in my work and I know that I will get caught up with what needs to be done.

I also got home tonight and read until 10pm.

That seems to be as much as I can do at the moment.

And that added another few minutes into my day of looking at my graduate school work and assimilating the knowledge into my brain the best way I possibly could.

Hell.

It seems to be working.

I practiced non violent communication with the five-year old after a faked temper tantrum of dramatic proportions broke out post dinner pre bath time.

I was amazed at how well it worked and wanted to do a jig of happiness, but the three-year old was busy being three and that was curtailed.

The celebration that is.

But not the recognition that even in this brief amount of time being in graduate school, I am already learning and applying that knowledge to what is happening in my work environment.

Good to remind myself as I come up on my year, the 22nd of the month marks a year of being with the family, and my asking for a raise.

Not quite sure how that conversation is going to happen, but happen it will.

And I am constantly being taken care of.

“Here, take this,” my friend handed me $100.

“I know you didn’t get a paycheck last week, it’ll help with groceries,” he finished tucking it into my hand.

Tears prickled my eyes.

I said thank you.

I folded the bill and put it in my bra.

I forgot it was there.

Went to the store and realized I needed to take the bill out of my brassiere and pay for a quick food staple I had forgotten to buy the other day on my SafeWay run–which was almost exactly $100.

Groceries for a week.

So very grateful.

I forget how much abundance and generosity there is in the world.

I forget that I am always, beautifully, taken care of.

It is not always how I think it’s going to look and so often it is because I am NOT looking at myself, rather at how I can help out someone else.

Not an attitude that I have in spades, but one I have learned to cultivate.

One that saves my life.

I exaggerate not.

Again and again.

That is not to say that I should not or need not speak up for myself at work.

I need to do it.

I should have asked for a raise long ago, especially after being told I was the best nanny the family has had in five nannies and my salary is the same as the nanny who left them last year.

I realized that I was beholden to the plane ticket they bought for me when I went up to Anchorage to see my dad.

And that I am afraid to ask.

Of course.

If I don’t ask.

I won’t receive.

Even if I don’t get a raise, I feel like I have to ask.

The nice thing too, I have done my numbers fifteen ways to Sunday and I know exactly what I need to bring in to the penny to make it while I am in school.

I can make it on what I make now, working five hours a week less than I was working two weeks ago, and the extra time and space I have given myself will make my life a better place to live.

I could go through the process of being scared.

Or.

I can find the space to continue moving forward.

Doing the things that I do best.

Showing up.

Being accountable.

Doing a good job.

Hell.

The timing people!

I just got a text message about a place in the neighborhood that might have a room open up that is significantly cheaper than what I am paying now.

Now there’s a thought.

It has not even occurred to me to move.

I’m not sure I want to give up my autonomy here.

I do love my little home by the sea.

I would still be by the sea but at Noriega instead of Judah.

That’s not too much further than I am now.

Another five minutes or so on the bicycle everyday.

But maybe.

Stuff and things.

Everything is fine.

I have no problems.

I have only oceans of solution and love.

Love.

Yes.

Always.

Just there.

On the periphery of my fears.

Dancing a soft shoe shuffle.

Waltzing a prandial of desire.

Love.

Brown sugar crystals and the faint.

Caustic.

Drift of cigarette smoke.

I am going to be just fine.

I already am.


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