I Tried

But I did not go.

I got up.

I didn’t feel so hot.

I didn’t feel so bad either, except in my head, let’s be honest, the head wanted to have some make me feel like shit say, but I didn’t feel great either.

I ended up last night having some reflux before bed, so I didn’t get off scot-free, but it wasn’t a bad day for it.

So to today, I feel like there’s a little happening, but it’s not been a bad day.

The, sigh, the part that has been challenging, is that I’ve been bloated.

I have no idea what that’s all about, may have something to do with whatever’s going on, that’s what it feels like, another symptom of whatever the issue is that needs to be addressed, but a symptom that’s a bit noisome, frankly, not one I’m a fan of.

And there’s a feeling of always being rather full, even when I haven’t eaten.

I felt like I could muster the will power to go to yoga class, but then I just felt like I was going to be nauseous the whole time.

I talked with my best friend on the phone and I realized when I was in tears that I was mostly frustrated because I had made plans in my brain and those plans weren’t happening and I was mad at myself and mad at my body.

My friend suggested a nice long walk instead of yoga, go move my body, but just in a gentler way.

Fuck.

I honestly wouldn’t have thought about that, I would have beat myself up for not going to yoga and then felt bad.

Instead.

I took the suggestion and since I was in my yoga clothes anyway, I went for a long walk on the beach.

Sometimes I forget how close it is and that it’s right there, just three scant blocks away, the big beautiful Pacific Ocean, and the big swath of Ocean Beach that I’m at in about five minutes from leaving my house.

I walked for an hour.

I felt better.

Oh.

Sure my stomach is not itself, hasn’t been in some time, but I felt better, I felt better having sunlight on my face, I felt better because I was active, mildly active, but still, and I felt better for having the sound of the ocean in my ears, which was meditative.

So too, the sight of the water, calming and soothing.

I am so lucky to live by the ocean.

I remember growing up how much I wanted to get back to California, how much I missed it, how important to me the ocean was, the dream of being by it, of living by it.

I still want a home and I often think, that although it’s crazy to think I could possibly buy a house in San Francisco, I still think that I could, and wouldn’t it be nice to have a place by the sea?

I have found myself rather fond of it out here.

Oh I know.

It’s not all that central, but it’s sweet and has a neighborhood feel that I much appreciate, and there’s the ocean, which is such an intense and wonderful source of power for me.

I appreciate living in the outer most reaches of the city for reasons I could not have expected when I first moved to San Francisco.

The Outer Sunset felt like another country to me.

But having a scooter and more recently, a car, it’s not too bad getting around, and well, there’s actually parking most of the time.

Oh, sometimes I have to park further away than I want, but I generally find it pretty quick.

Granted.

My car is hella small so I probably find spaces others can’t fit, but I wager I would have a much harder time in other parts of the city.

I mean, I cannot fathom the idea of having a car in the Mission.

Not unless I did own a home or have access to a garage.

So being out here is great, the parking, the ocean, the quietness of it, and the feeling of being a part of the neighborhood.

I do like that.

And I like how that walk on the beach rather set a different and unexpected tone to my day.

I felt resourced and taken care of and I came home and had a nice breakfast, which in hindsight does really speak to the fact that something is happening for me, I got up at 8:15 a.m., did laundry, put fresh sheets on my bed, talked to my best friend, went for an hour-long walk on the beach, and I didn’t have breakfast until nearly two, two and a half hours later.

Normally, before the tummy trouble, I would have been bats if I waited two hours to eat.

But I didn’t feel hungry, it was just something I noted as I went about making my breakfast, the thought that it was late in my morning to just then be eating.

I don’t know if I will do yoga tomorrow or not.

I’m not going to sign up tonight, I made that decision, but if I feel ok in the morning I can sign up for a class.

And if I don’t, well, I go for another walk, I at least take the time I would have been doing yoga to move my body and get fresh air.

Or I go for a bike ride, I thought about that too.

Then home, a good hot shower, a nice breakfast, meeting with a few ladies to do the deal and then some food prep for the week and some work on my Research Methods paper.

After which up to the Castro for my Sunday night commitment and then off to Frances for a late dinner with my best friend.

It’s going to be a really lovely day.

I feel it in my bones.

So grateful for the sweet unfolding of my day today and all the small unexpected beautiful moments therein.

Luckiest girl in the world.

Seriously.

Well, I Almost Did It

Not cry that is.

But, sucker for nostalgia, lonely hearts, and Elvis Christmas carols.

I caved and cried a bit.

Christmas Eve alone.

Which is ok.

Really it is.

I’ve had plenty of special this Christmas season.

And I won’t be alone tomorrow.

I’ll be going to the East Bay to meet a friend and see her new place and go out to a movie matinée and a meal.

It will be sweet and the traffic will be easy.

I wasn’t completely lonesome today.

Sometimes being alone is just perfect and needed.

Lonely and alone are two very different things.

I was alone most of the day, although I did get out and do things.

I went to yoga, and it was a great class.

I left feeling so good and literally said out loud, “I have to figure out how to do this more often.”

The yoga studio is super close to me, but my schedule, shocker, conflicts with many of the classes.

I wish that had some early morning week day classes, but so far there’s just one, a 7 a.m. on Tuesdays that just recently started.

I haven’t gone yet as my therapy appointment is a 9:30 a.m. cross town in Noe Valley on Tuesdays.

I figure I could actually do the class if I set myself up right the night before, bring breakfast with me and coffee and have it at work, skip doing the majority of my morning routine, and cram in a yoga class before therapy.

I just haven’t tried it yet.

This Tuesday, however, I don’t have therapy, my therapist is away for the holiday, and I have been thinking that I will go to the 7 a.m. class and see what the timing is like.

A sort of dry run.

I’m not expected into work until 11a.m. so I’ll have plenty of time to do the class and do my morning routine.

I may even get a Friday morning yoga class in this week too, my family will be out-of-town for a long weekend and I have all day Friday off.  I haven’t booked in anything yet though, holding out to see what will arise.

Something will I am sure.

So, yes, yoga today and hot shower and hot latte and hot breakfast and lots of writing.

The lady bug I was supposed to meet with cancelled so I took myself to the Inner Sunset, got a cafe au lait and went to the nail salon.

Manicure.

Pedicure.

Eyebrows.

Lovely.

I wanted to go to Marnee Thai for a late lunch and was surprised to find them closed.

So I headed back home and had a really nice bowl of soup.

I noodled around a little here at the house and knew I should get out otherwise I might catch a case of the sads.

So I stuck a chicken in the oven to roast for dinner and some Japanese sweet potatoes and set off for Ocean Beach.

I saw a few Christmas tragedies happening, a drunken Santa Claus that I had seen stumble into the Fireside Bar on Irving and 7th which is right next door to the nail salon I go to, tumble off the MUNI and bumble his way across the street with “Santa Baby” playing loudly on a boom box and totter into Pittsburgh’s bar.

Which has most of the neon blown out in the sign so it just says “urgh’s.”

How I think that Santa must have felt.

I had seen one other tragic Christmas moment at the nail salon.

A woman walked in looking for a highlighter brush for a hair dye kit.

She was pretty glazed, Valium or something of the sort, and she knocked over a bunch of salon merchandise and then literally sat down on the floor in front of the accessories and mumbled how was she going to do her highlights before the Christmas dinner had to be cooked?

Yikes.

Merry Christmas lady.

But.

For the most part, it wasn’t a bad day, really, just quiet, like I said, and I managed to sneak into Java Beach and get the last cafe au lait of the day before they closed down for the night.

Decaf, I mean, really I like my coffee, but I try to not have caffeine after four p.m.

Then.

I strolled down to the beach.

The sun had already set, but the twilight was so pretty.

I took a lot of photos.

I love, love, love, the new phone camera.

It really takes some nice shots.

The above is not the best shot, it’s a little fuzzy, but the camera does this “live” photo thing that is pretty amazing, it shows my facial movement as I line up the shot and it’s really cool to see it, plus the filters are exquisite.

I liked the filter on this one.

The beach was super quiet and it wasn’t quite as cold as I thought it would be.

I walked for a bit and enjoyed it immensely.

Then I came back to the house and pulled a perfectly roasted chicken out of the oven and had myself a damn fine meal.

I headed back out planning on doing a meet up with my fellows over at the Palace of Fine Arts, but only found folks meandering around the parking lot.

Apparently the facility had forgotten to alert them that the building would be closed for the holiday.

So I said hi to a few folks and then went for one more walk.

The Palace is pretty special and at night it really shines.

The Christmas lights on the houses around the park too were just beautiful and though I didn’t have the night I was expecting it was a nice walk.

I queued up the Elvis Christmas album in the car and drove back to the Outer Sunset.

And yes.

Sigh.

I did tear up a little bit, but you know, the writing, this little blog, it helps me put things into perspective and I’m not so sad anymore.

Rather.

Just grateful as all get out that I have so much in my life.

Merry Christmas Eve!

May all your Christmas wishes be granted.

 

Frank Sinatra

Christmas carols.

Laying in your arms in the glow of the blue lights on the tree.

My heart beat syncopated with yours.

Warm, soft tears slide down my face.

I hope you do not notice.

Content and wrapped in your embrace a softening shelter I did not know I needed.

I think about you.

Love.

And.

Our.

Love.

So many kinds.

Blue love.

Joyful love.

Peanut butter and chocolate chip cookie love.

Christmas carol love.

Hanging filigree ornament love.

Pink bunny love.

Walks on the beach at twilight love.

Butterflies in the garden love.

Flowers wrapped in gunny sacks and tied with twine love.

Candlelight love.

Untold love.

1,000 kisses love.

Tears on my pillow love.

Crows passing red berries in the snow, beak to beak, love.

Love letters love.

Poetry love.

Shameless love.

Not sorry love.

Not safe love.

Hands entwined love.

Squish love.

Passionate love.

Chemistry love.

Alchemical love.

Magic love.

Moonlight love.

Star shine love.

Dressing up in my prettiest dress for you love.

Pink glitter lip gloss love.

Baby girl love.

Dearest, sweetest, tenderest love.

Vulnerable love.

Smash love.

Precious love.

Spectacular love.

Cannot wait to see you love.

Miss you all the time love.

Dreamy love.

All the love I have for you, love.

Christmas Eve love.

Wishing you all the joy love.

All the blessings of love.

All the happiest happiness of love.

For you.

My love.

Wishing you it all.

Merry Christmas baby.

I love you.

 

 

No Charge

When you, I mean, I.

Let me use “I” statements, I am in graduate school for a psychology degree after all, I need to remember to only speak for myself.

When I have no charge.

Nothing.

No feeling of regret.

No longing.

No nothing.

When nothing comes up.

Well.

God damn.

That’s when I know I made the right choice for me.

I saw an ex today.

I, in fact, had a feeling I was going to run into an ex, but I ran into a different one that I had suspected I’d run into.

A few years ago, three, I think I was dating a man, and it was brief, who was very, very, very, VERY, much into the kink and fetish scene in San Francisco.

Folsom Street Fair was today.

A kink and leather and sex and fringe San Francisco festival and street fair.

And I went.

I wasn’t planning on going and I definitely looked like a tourist–I was wearing a bright yellow sundress and my hair in braids.  I looked like I should have been traispsing through a meadow.

I haven’t gone there “dressed” in attire in about a decade.

I think the last time I wnet I wore high heels, platforms and a corset I had gotten from Dark Garden over in Hayes Valley.

It was a beautiful piece and I needed a lot of help getting into it.

I had a friend who had talked me into the piece, which I tried to return a few days later to only be told flat-out that I couldn’t.

I was pretty devastated as I spent a lot more money on it than I should have considering that my rent was around the corner.

And.

That I only wore it once.

Granted.

I looked lovely.

But.

I soon thereafter lost a lot of weight and it was too big.

I gifted it to a woman at the Burning Man offices who was an intern there at the time.

She’s now a major player there and I remember fondly how excited she was when I gave her the corset.

Anyway, Folsom Street Fair.

My friend had talked me into it and a mutual friend of ours picked me up on his Vespa, in tennis whites, I will never forget that, the audacity of wearing tennis whites to Folsom, right down to the wrist bands and the visor.

We all met at Glide, a church in the Tenderloin, went to services there, then, yes, we did.

We went to The Armani Exchange store and had lunch at the counter.

The server fawned all over us.

It was super fun.

Then off to Folsom.

And that was ten years ago.

How the time flies.

I wouldn’t have gone today.

In fact, I had very definitive ideas about what I was doing, I was going to class, then go hit a spot up in the Mission and do the deal and then errands and a mani/pedi, and groceries, and cooking.

And.

And.

And.

All the things.

l was going to do all the things.

But.

Well.

School happened.

I had a big moment in class, I handled some conflict within class and it was a very powerful moment for me.

A woman in class later reflected to me that I was the embodiment of “fierce grace.”

I don’t remember what I said, only the flavor of it, and I know I was a channel for what was being spoken.

I didn’t feel possessed, so to speak, but when I am in that place, I open my mouth and out comes something, I am a channel, a conduit, a mouthpiece for the Divine.

Or God if you will.

I will.

But you don’t have to.

Sometimes when I talk about God I think folks get a particular idea and feel like folks don’t quite get it.  I am a bit of a spiritual rebel and a bit of throwback all at the same time.

I love me some Lord’s Prayer.

Most folks can’t stand it.

I love the prayer of St. Francis.

I say that one every day.

Every day.

I say a lot of other prayers too, suffice to say, I have a deep and effective spiritual life that I am very grounded in and supremely grateful for.

I spoke to that a bit, but really, I don’t recall what I said.

But I will say this.

I was powerful.

I felt powerful.

I spoke with great articulation, emotion, and care.

I know that much, I know how it felt and I had a lot of power flowing through me.

I felt like I was on fire.

I teared up.

I know that tears drifted down my face at one moment, but I couldn’t tell you the words that evoked them.

I know that it was a kind of spiritual honesty that just rolled out of me.

After I had finished and the class processed what I had said, and my professor, and I remember very well the look on his face, he knew what I was talking about and resonated with it, he looked lit up as he listened to me, I realized that I could not leave right after class.

I owed it to the people in my class that I had spoken up for to connect with me and I with them and I knew that I had to be present and stay with what was brought up.

So.

I did.

I talked with a lot of the folks in my class and one of my classmates said she’d never been to Folsom Street Fair and wanted to go see it.

She flies in from Miami and has offered me her guest room so often that I know it’s not just a polite offer, but a “please use the room whenever you want it” sort of offer.

She even told me I didn’t need to ask, book a ticket and just let her and her husband know and I’ll have access.

That’s always nice to hear.

Anyway.

I decided to not run off, I stayed and connected, I blew off all my “obligations” my “plans and designs” and let the day decide for me what I was going to experience instead of imposing my will on it.

We walked around Folsom.

There was much to see, but not much that excited or intrigued me, I have eyes for other things.

And chatting with my friend in front of someone doing suspended rope bondage I had a sudden feeling that I would run into my ex.

Whom I haven’t seen in years, but, well, Folsom is his bailiwick for sure.

But nope.

In fact.

I didn’t run into anyone but a few other friends from school–campus is three blocks away–in all the hundreds of scantily dressed folks I saw.

Then we came out to my place, I showed her where I live and we went and caught a late lunch at Sea Breeze Cafe in my neighborhood and talked and talked and talked.

She left around 4 p.m. and I took a nice long walk on the beach in my sundress.

Yes.

I said sundress!

It was summer in San Francisco today.

It was so nice I didn’t even wear leggings.

I had a good check in phone call with my person as I walked the beach and then just after I got off the phone, literally seconds later, I look up to my right for no particular reason.

And there he is.

An ex, not the one who I thought I would run into a Folsom, but another more recent relationship (not that recent either, now that I think about it, two years ago now) and a woman.

They were holding hands.

I didn’t stare, but at first I couldn’t understand, consciously, what had caught my eye.

I didn’t understand what I was seeing or why I was even looking.

A nice couple walking on the beach holding hands.

Then I realized it was an ex.

I think I waved?

Not sure.

I remember thinking, “oh, that’s nice, he’s seeing someone,” and that was it.

That was it!

Nothing.

No charge.

No heat.

No energy.

My energy, my love, my attention is so elsewhere, is so taken and captured.

I had absolutely nothing.

Except that little bit of “how nice for him” moment.

He said my name, “Hi _______________,” dropped the hand of the woman, “you look great!”

I was startled that he said anything at all to me and a  “thanks,” popped out of my mouth and then I just walked away.

I didn’t turn back.

There’s nothing there.

I just walked the beach.

Happy and content in my skin.

In my pretty yellow sundress, fluttering in the wind.

I went home and I cooked and I read some homework.

I took a good hot shower.

I ate my dinner.

And then I started my blog.

That’s it.

My day.

It was good.

I’m loved.

I’m happy.

I got sunshine on my face.

It was a damn fine day.

Wonderful in fact.

 

Wanted Woman

It’s nice to be wanted.

It really is.

It’s nice to be pursued.

It’s nice to be courted.

But.

To a point.

Today I was asked to nanny by four different people.

Four.

Three separate families apart from the one I work for, and all from the same spot.

I was a little overwhelmed by it, I was also very tentative about saying anything about my availability.

What availability?

I mean.

Yikes.

One mom who asked has asked before and it has always felt a little like I was getting manipulated into doing something even though I was fairly closed mouth about being able to do anything, I also feel like I must be circumspect and respect that the families are all after one thing, that which will work well for them and their children.

And I know from over a decade of being a nanny that it’s hard to find a good fit for your child, I am asked for referrals all the time.

All the time.

It takes a lot of showing up to be good.

And.

I have a lot to give, but let’s be honest.

There is only so much Carmen-nanny to go around.

Word has gotten out that my family will be gone for a few weeks in July and that I might be helping out my previous family.

And it’s true.

My current family will be leaving for a few weeks, but my internship won’t be going anywhere.

And yes.

I did tell my previous family I would love to help them out with a date night, I miss the boys and it would be sweet to have a night with them.

But.

I am in no place to suddenly pick up a lot of hours.

I will say, though, it is flattering.

I also got to see the another family I briefly worked for end of last year and get a lot of hugs and how are you’s and catch up.

Part of me wants to say yes, of course I will help, I love your kids, I like you.

But.

I love me to.

And Carmen has needs.

I want to make sure my needs are getting met before I go off and make promises to help when I will just get resentful.

No.

I don’t want my summer to be a resentful making time.

I would rather do a lot of yoga, hang out with friends, go on dates, get some extra hours in at my internship and maybe take a long weekend somewhere.

Maybe not even all that far away.

Somewhere by the sea.

Somewhere closer by then Paris.

Somewhere I just lay around in a big hotel bed for a weekend.

I still have my flight voucher for $480 to use before October.

And.

I just had a moment today, not a big one, but a kind of soft warning bell, oh hey, don’t forget, you’re also going to Burning Man and I haven’t done any prep around that.

I still need to replace my playa bike.

I need to find a ride there and back as well.

I have some supplies that I need to replace, a battery charged air pump for my blow up mattress, and of course since I’m not working at all this event I will need to probably procure another cooler for a longer run on my food and figure out a shade structure.

I didn’t have a shade structure last year, I figured, four days in and out, I’ll deal, but this year I’ll be there for the full event and I want to be in a nice space for myself.

Also.

Since school starts for me the weekend prior to Burning Man starting, literally my fall school semester will start and I will leave class and head straight to the playa.

That night.

If not that afternoon.

Depending on who I ride with.

Anyone want to give me a ride to Burning Man this year?

Yeah, seriously, hit me up.

I suppose I will put my name on the ride share board again and see if that pans anything out.

I don’t have to know all the details yet, but there’s planning that needs to be done for that and May is almost over, June will be really rolling into being at my internship and taking clients and July, the family is gone for three weeks.

That three weeks feels like the golden times.

I could not work at all.

I am getting paid for the time the family is away.

I could just do my internship and hide from all forms of nannying.

I don’t want to let myself get bogged down in helping out too many people.

Even if all I do is yoga and take long walks on the beach, just some good solid self-care.

Ah.

I am done with the worrying.

Tomorrow has a lot going on and I want to get up early and go to yoga, stretch out as much as possible and get in my body, meeting with my person at Tart to Tart, grocery shopping–the cupboards are pretty bare, and a dentist appointment to deal with before I try to figure out what July looks like.

I have today.

I got through the week, the jet lag seems to have faded off.

I got to see some friends and fellows tonight.

I had a great day at work.

I was pursued and though I couldn’t respond in the manner that was being asked after, I gave no promises as to my availability, only confirmed that the family will be out for a few weeks in July, I could thank those that asked after me.

And.

I can appreciate that I am appreciated.

That people want me to work for them.

That I am wanted is a gift.

A gift that I do not take lightly.

So with much gratitude.

I bid adieu to Friday and hello to my three-day weekend!

I am so ready for it.

Seriously.

Cozy Little Christmas

I was talking to the moms earlier and she expressed how sad she was that I was alone at Christmas.

I assuaged her.

I almost laughed, I haven’t felt lonely, despite, yes, spending the majority of the day alone.

I never felt lonely.

Sleepy occasionally.

I actually napped.

A lot.

I don’t nap often and it always feels rather epic when I do.

I blame the malingering cold.

Not enough to knock me completely flat, but definitely, defiantly still there, sitting on my chest with a nasty proprietorship that I am about done with.

Ha.

I foil you cold.

I signed up for a yoga class tomorrow, get out of my body.

I figure one more big night of sleep and some warming up and stretching will make me feel a lot better.

I didn’t get to the studio at all this past week, the weird hours at work, the onset of the cold, the holiday stuff, I got behind and nothing quite worked with my schedule.

Speaking of schedule.

I have been in contact with the new family I will be starting with on January 2nd and since I’m in town this week I’ll be meeting with them to go over the stuff and things and sign my new contract.

It’s for reals.

I am grateful for the week off.

Even with the stupid cold.

I will go to the MOMA.

I may go the DeYoung and the Legion of Honor too,  haven’t been to either in a while.

Maybe one day a ride over to Sausalito too on the ferry, it’s been a while since I have done that as well.

And as I let myself listen to a last few Christmas carols I really am reflectively happy.

Yes, I had other plans.

And I’m ok with the change of them.

I’m not upset that I spent Christmas by myself.

I’m good company.

Really good company.

I got myself a new dress for Christmas.

Oh god damn it’s cute.

From Hell Bunny.

Thank you Christmas bonus.

I don’t think it will get here in time for New Year’s but it might, not that I don’t have a dress, I did let myself get a dress from Ambiance the other day.

Two dresses at Christmas, so nice to do for myself.

I had a nice morning writing and drinking cafe au lait.

I opened cards and gifts from family and I talked to my mom on the phone and chatted and messaged with other friends and dear hearts.

I made turmeric spiced garlic brown rice and I roasted a pork roast.

Oh my god.

The roast.

I very infrequently buy pork or steak, it’s just spendy for me and if I get meat, I typically get a chicken, I can stretch a chicken into a weeks plus worth of meals, but you know, Christmas.

So I picked up a pork roast at the SafeWay the last time I shopped.

And what with the Adobo my darling friend gave me from Puerto Rico and the persimmons Santa sent me, fuck me, I made an amazing pork roast.

I seasoned it with sea salt, black pepper, the aforementioned Adobo, Spike, a tiny bit of tarragon and then slow cooked it for an hour and a half.

While it rested I made the rice.

Then I sliced up some persimmon, layered them over the top of the roast, added a tiny bit more salt, and yes, raw organic cocoa.

While the rice was cooking and the roast was resting I went for a walk down to the beach.

The waves were heavy and crumbling and loud.

There were a few folks out with their pups and one surfer trying to paddle out past the break.

I walked for a while.

Then perched in the dunes above the beach.

I was not sad.

I am not sad now.

I reflected, rather, that I have done a lot for myself, with the help of a lot of friends, over this past year.

I dis-entangled myself from a love relationship that was woefully not working.

I went to New York in May and saw all the art and things and friends.

I went to New Orleans and saw all the art and the things and made new friends.

I went to Burning Man, briefly, yes, but I went and saw all the art and the things and made new friends and saw old friends.

I rode my scooter all over the city.

I mean all over.

I successfully got through the first semester of my second year in a three year graduate school program.

I saw Mike Doughty and Paul Simon live.

I started doing yoga.

I finished a two year plus job with grace and love and got referred kindly to my next position with rave references.

I comported myself pretty damn well.

I told lots of people I love them.

I do, you know.

I sat up in those dunes happy with myself, alone, but not lonely and it struck me so resolutely how lonely I felt last year at Christmas with the man I was in love with and then the year prior with an old boyfriend, alone on Christmas as he chose to spend it with another.

I was not in pity for myself, I remember walking that same stretch of beach tears running down my face, in a white dress, my hair in braids, the wind so cold, the sun bright, brilliant, but cutting.  I took a picture of myself in the dunes that year and all the responses were the same, my god how beautiful and all I could think was my God, I’m in a relationship and alone on Christmas, my God how lonely I am.

Alone.

But not lonely this year at Christmas.

I came home from my happy gambol along the beach and lovingly put the roast in the over to sear at a high temp for a half hour and carmelized the persimmons and my goodness, my house may have never smelled better.

I read for a while then pulled out the roast and dug in.

It was beyond description.

So good.

And I had saved a Rau Raw Chocolate drink to have with it.

Best Christmas dinner ever.

Seriously.

I had a sliced persimmon after dredged in sea salt and raw chocolate, cinnamon and nutmeg, and a big mug of Bengal Spice tea with cashew milk.

I was full and happy and warm and cozy.

I read for a little while longer, so many wonderful new pleasure reading things to get through, then.

I had a thought.

My how nice a nap might be.

So.

I did.

Merry fucking Christmas.

I curled up underneath my grandma’s afghan and watched the Christmas tree.

I drifted off, warm, safe, held.

Wrapped up in love.

Alone?

Yes.

Lonely, no.

Loved and taken care of.

Loving to myself and to others.

The best Christmas miracles are always the little ones.

Seriously.

So, mama, don’t be sad that your baby was alone on Christmas.

I had a beautiful day and when I reflect on all the people who love me.

Well.

I am surely blessed.

So very much so.

Wishing you and yours the same.

Always.

And.

Forever.

 

 

Last Christmas I gave you my heart.

But the very next day you gave it away.

This year I’ll give it to someone special.

Hello Daisy

I had this profound experience in yoga class today.

Yeah.

I know.

I’m gonna be that bitch.

Don’t even ask me how much money I dropped on yoga clothes today.

But damn, I was not wearing the right stuff and nothing says distracting like needing to breathe through a ridiculous hard pose, for me, and inhaling my shirt.

Yuck.

I figure I made an investment, I’m going to have the clothes for a while, I will be using them, and hey, I haven’t invested in sports or athletic gear in years.

Not since I did the Aids LifeCylcle and suddenly every other day I felt like I was dropping bills on kits, shoes, socks, saddles, not to mention saddle sores, but that’s another kind of expense, protein powder, water bottles, lights, portable air pump, tires, levers, inner tubes.

I could increase that list if I thought a little harder.

You get the gist.

I just bought three pairs of leggings, three sports bras, and three tops.

I’m committing to three days of yoga a week.

I secretly may do more if I can squeeze it in.

Tomorrow will be day four in a row.

After that I won’t have the opportunity for a class until Thursday.

I debated a moment before signing up for the class, but pretty much knew, as I floated, I mean FLOATED out of the studio, that I would be going tomorrow.

Partially as Mondays will be a day that I have time to get to a class before I head into work.

I want to set the intention of going on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.

I will probably also do Sundays.

That, of course, will not happen on weeks that I have school, and that’s ok.

School is a priority.

Work is a priority.

My recovery the biggest priority of it all.

And yoga is going to be a priority.

First, because it was heavily, I mean heavily suggested by my person that I start exercising three times a week, a safety valve to let off the steam of stress caused by full time work and full time school.

I can see now how right she was.

Not that I ever doubted she was right, I knew she was the entire time, I was raging over being right versus being happy, I was the person balking.

My disease, the nature of the malady, is such that anything that it thinks may bring me some sort of joy or love or lightness.

Well.

Fuck that.

No.

So I often take opposite indicated actions.

And even knowing that, I still balked at doing the yoga.

However.

I can report that I am really feeling better.

Yes.

I am sore.

But.

Not as bad as yesterday and I let myself get unattached to how I looked or held or not held a pose, I let myself topple, I let myself fall out of certain poses, I sunk into child’s pose a bit more, but I also tried.

I tried every pose.

I found I was more flexible in regards to a couple of poses that flummoxed me the first time they were introduced to me.

I found myself able to do a few things that I wasn’t able to do yesterday.

And.

My hips feel loose.

Oh my God.

They get so tight from riding my bike.

My knees haven’t hurt, my hips are loosened up, I can feel in my body a general lengthening and releasing of old energy, old thoughts, old ideas.

I love it.

I am so happy that I am letting myself do this.

I am so grateful for tax returns!

And student loans.

I can afford to do this and in all actuality, this is going to save my life, I can feel it.

I have been much more relaxed, more in my body, more present, more accountable.

And happy.

Not always.

I’m not saying I’m all high on yoga, but I am a little.

I caught that delicious feeling more than once of realizing that I had forgotten completely the outside world, the clock on the mantle, the life on the other side of the wood floor, school, work, chores, it was all gone.

I was just there.

In the moment.

So divine.

So needed.

The instructor was the same teacher as yesterday and it was a deepening of the dharma talk she gave yesterday.

It syncs well with my own, personal, Carmen based, spiritual practice.

Meaning I could get behind what she was saying even if I didn’t understand the names or words that she was saying, I got the point.

Non-attachment.

Intention setting.

Yesterday I meditated about love.

Today I set the intention for joy.

I felt light and full of love and joy and I held a person in my heart and sent that person that light and then.

Ha.

I had the vision in my mind of a daisy sprouting from the top of my head.

It was divine.

And silly.

And so apropos.

My favorite flowers are daisies.

In fact, after I went shopping for yoga clothes, thank you Sports Basement for the 10% discount! I went to the grocery store and picked up supplies for cooking and meals for the week at work, and I promised myself I would get myself some flowers.

I got a sweet little mix of pink Gerber daisies, tuber rose, lilies, and purple poms.

I felt happy.

Very happy.

It’s a small thing.

Flowers.

But so much too.

I love getting flowers and I don’t have to wait to be given them.

Buy your own damn flowers.

It’s been a good six days off.

A lot of heart work, thank you Valentines Day for your lessons in service and love.

Which were extrapolated out into my world all week long.

I saw dear friends, I had tea dates and walks on the beach, I saw a movie, I started doing yoga, I rode my scooter a lot, I did lots of doing the deal, I even, yes, I know, did homework–finished my reading for Multi-Cultural Counseling and the Family and got started on my reading for The Therapeutic Relationship–I sat outside in the sun, I went to ModCloth and got fitted (and I got the clothes on Friday!) and dressed up in my crinoline three times this week.

I had me a lovely, sweet, darling, “staycation.”

It was awesome.

I am ready to dive back into the fray.

Knowing.

Especially that I have a new tool in my box to help me be a stronger, healthier, more connected person.

Amazing.

Luckiest girl in the world.

Let me tell ya.

I am.

I am.

Easing Back In

Not that I want to.

Nope.

Not at all.

I would rather just pretend that this week is pure and free and there’s nothing to do but hang out and walk the beach, drink coffee, write, color, chat with friends, go to cafes, connect with folks.

You know.

However.

I did gear back into the habit and routine of doing some reading for classes.

Of course.

I didn’t even make it through an entire article when I closed my eyes while I was reading on the chaise and I drifted off.

Fuck me.

Two days in a row with a nap.

Who is this person?

Well rested, that’s who.

And nicely set up for the weekend.

I have a yoga class, gulp, I’m taking tomorrow.

I am afraid.

I know that sounds silly.

But.

There it is.

I am afraid to do it wrong.

I am afraid to look stupid.

I am afraid I will love it and become one of those obnoxious yoga people that prance around town obnoxiously glowing and happy.

Wait.

I sort of want that.

Heh.

I remind myself that it is just showing up and that I am just exploring it and I have had two girlfriends in the last six hours offer to go to a class with me.

I am going to be just fine.

Let me just repeat that.

The yoga studio will not eat me alive.

I bet I even enjoy it.

And it’s a block from the house.

I told on myself too.

I knew I was going to back out if I didn’t make myself accountable to some people.

I called three people and told them I was going tomorrow and I still felt myself balking to even say it.

I know there’s something to explore there, when I have this much resistance it’s sort of the dark territory that I need to go into, headlamp on, yoga mat tucked under my arm.

I walked over to the studio today and checked out the facility and the schedule and it really is the best possible solution.

It is on my block.

I keep telling myself that as I spend stupid amounts of time looking for other solutions when it’s right there.

Like the elephant in the room.

I’m using my scooter a lot.

I’m going to need the exercise and the breathing is going to be great and the stretching will help and the sweating is needed and then I’ll be a hop, skip, and a jump away from my house, a shower, and then whatever I need to do.

I have been doing my Applied Spirituality work and instead of doing the yoga so far, I have implemented the physical part of the three pronged approach that I proposed by walking the beach.

I was out there an hour today.

It was glorious.

Mostly because there were so few people there.

It felt like just me, the sea, the sea gulls, ravins, the plovers, and hermit crabs.

I found two whole sand dollars.

I turned my face to the sky and the sun.

I almost got drenched by a wave without realizing it and ran laughing out loud out of the surf.

It was a good connecting.

I felt grounded and in myself.

I did some grocery shopping.

I cooked some food.

I confirmed with my friend coming into the city that we’ll be meeting in the Haight tomorrow.

It’s project rain so I’ll be on MUNI.

We’re going to meet at People’s Cafe, hang out, catch up, maybe do some window shopping, do the deal, grab a bite to eat and oh, that sounds so good.

Solid gold friend time.

And then.

Who knows what the rest of the weekend will bring.

I found out today that I don’t have either of the people I normally meet with on Saturday.

A free and clear Saturday.

No commitments.

I’m not going to make any plans.

Out loud anyway.

My brain will chatter about it all day for the next night and day if I let it.

I prefer not to.

I am just going to stay here, in this moment.

Change is coming.

Suffice to say, as I started this piece, I will be focusing on some homework.

I have to post up pretty soon to Applied Spirituality forum and since I have been doing the deeper work, really it doesn’t feel necessarily “deeper” but I have enjoyed it and noticed a different space in myself, an easiness in my being after I have done the coloring meditation.

Other than that, I will do the readings for classes and depending on how I am feeling work on one of the papers that are due for the next weekend of classes.

I have two this go around.

And lots more on the horizon.

I’m not there yet.

I do actually have wiggle room this week, I could foreseeably do no homework, but I don’t care for the anxiety that produces in me.

There is balance.

I can go about this life with some semblance of equilibrium.

I know I can.

And all these experiences, well, they are gifts, some uncomfortable to hold until I get used to the edges and pushing past those places of resistance.

Hell.

Maybe I just need to go out dancing with some girlfriends too.

I have a tentative offer for this weekend.

Again.

Not pressuring myself.

When I spend too much time focusing on what is not happening for me, what I should be doing, where I should be going, then I just jump right out of the present moment.

The present moment looks like singing along to Mike Doughty’s Stellar Motel, rocking a polka dot frock and a crinoline, third day this week, and loving my sweet self hard as I can.

Sometimes that love is doing the things that I least want to do.

And having compassion for that little begrudging voice to express herself.

“NO!  I don’t want to go!”

Shh.

It will be ok.

I swear.

It’s just yoga.

Seriously.

 

Vacation!

It’s official.

I am off the next six days in a row.

I’m not freaking out.

Yet.

I have had a lot of loud, however, conversation in my head about the kind of exercise I should, would, or could be doing.

It is in fact driving me a bit bats.

But better to be obsessed with figuring out the best work out for my time and schedule than wondering about what I am going to do with all this time.

Just take it easy.

One day at a time and all that jazz.

I do have plans to meet with a ladybug tomorrow and do the deal and things of that nature are happening, but aside from that, my day is pretty wide open.

I have some pretty wide open days coming up, little things here and there, but lots of opportunity to do things and go places and hang out.

And.

Oh yes.

Sleep in.

I have gotten up at 6:30 a.m. or earlier for the last four days.

I am ready to not have an alarm go off.

I will be sleeping as long as I like.

I tell myself it will be a good long time, but it will be whenever my brain wakes up enough to rouse my body from its slumber.

I did take some actions around looking into things.

I went and talked to a woman at Laughing Lotus on 16th and Guerrero and got a schedule.

I also have done a lot of online trying to figure things out.

I have to say.

I am over trying to figure it out.

I got a great suggestion tonight from a fellow to surrender it and ask for direction and see what shows up.

I don’t have to know tonight.

And I can and have been driving myself a little nutty with it.

I have other things to do.

Homework is one of them, but I think I will at least let myself off the hook for that tomorrow and not worry about delving back into the homework right away.

I actually feel like giving myself the entire day off tomorrow to not think about any of it at all.

Just show up for my commitment and let whatever happens happen.

I am sure the day will show up.

It did today and I got to go into work and happily so, on my scooter.

I got my SFMTA Child Care Parking Permit and I am now allowed to park anywhere in the area of the permit for up to 72 hours without getting a ticket.

I can’t imagine leaving my scooter there overnight, but if something did happen, it would be ok for a few days.

And it means that I will be using my scooter to commute to work starting next week when I go back in.  I will want to have some sort of exercise routine in place, but I don’t have to have it right now.

Rather I can just enjoy looking at the day and the fact that I got to walk around a bit outside, have a nice lunch at Herbivore (I’m not a vegan, but I occasionally play one on tv, I actually just realized that everything I had today was vegan, huh) and in between taking care of things at work and meeting my friend for an iced coffee, I also got a manicure pedicure.

And a new vibrator.

Just saying.

I have some down time.

And.

Um.

Ha.

It works well.

Thumbs up.

Ha!

Anyway, I did pop in and out of a few other places, but nothing else caught my eye and truth be told, I haven’t felt too compelled to buy anything.  I will probably still take some time and do some clothes shopping, but nothing on Valencia Street was doing it for me and I was still sorted of at work, so I didn’t really take time to do a lot of looking.

It was better to hang out with my friend and catch up than worry about new clothes or what yoga studio I should check out.

My friend also mentioned ODC and she’s the third or fourth person to recommend it, so that is a place to investigate too.

I keep trying to get back to that and I really just want to let it lie right now, I am not about to go put on my yoga pants and grab a mat and…

Um.

Hahahaha.

Fuck me.

I am in yoga pants.

I put them on after I tried on a new dress I ordered on Modcloth.

I think I need to stop ordering on Modcloth.

I think I need to go down to the fit shop instead.

The dress is cute and it was one of the things I allowed myself to get when I got my tax return, I’d actually forgotten I had ordered it.

However, although it’s a perfect fit, the bodice is bizarre.

It makes my chest look really strange.

I mean.

It is NOT flattering.

Which is a bummer since it perfectly matches my new John Fluevog shoes!

OMG.

They came today and I picked them up from the shop in the Haight.

I am so wearing them tomorrow.

They are magical.

Maybe I should get dressed up and go to the museum and have a little artist date.

Stop thinking and get into some art.

Put on my fancy new shoes and scooter over to the DeYoung.

That would be fun.

I could have lunch at the cafe or I could go to Park Chow.

Oh yum.

Then, who knows.

I am meeting my ladybug at the Church Street Cafe at 6:15p.m.

That’s the earliest I have to be anywhere.

I can really sleep in.

Heh.

Again, I doubt it will be a long slumber, but it will not be getting up at 6:30 a.m.

No, nope, not at all.

Ah.

Perhaps a nice leisurely breakfast, some writing, a walk on the beach, it’s supposed to be nice tomorrow then rain for a few days, so it could be the right time to do the beach for sure.

Life is good.

I don’t have to know anything.

Be anything.

Or go anywhere.

I am exactly perfect.

Right here.

Right now.

All The Pretty Sunsets

In the Sunset.

I live in the Outer Sunset of San Francisco and today was the kind of day that everybody comes out to the beach for.

Clear skies.

Sunny.

Great waves breaking.

Warm.

Not hot.

But warm enough for flip-flops and grilling out and playing Ultimate frisbee in the sand, for tall cans and high jinks, to go cups of coffee from Trouble Coffee and Coconut Club, sandwiches wrapped up in white deli paper from Java Beach Cafe, and the ubiquitous joint or three from a kid on the MUNI who “lives” in the park.

It was as if the entire hipster nation came in from the Mission.

Not that I mind sharing the beach with the rest of the city, the Mission shares its burritos with me, but that I am not always used to it being so crowded.

I did want to be down at the beach, though, it was too pretty to stay at home for the sunset.

I had myself a really lovely, low-key, mellow day.

I had two ladies over, back to back, for tea and writing and reading.

I did my laundry and changed my sheets and took a nice shower and ate a good breakfast, wrote lots long hand, went grocery shopping on my bicycle.

It was the grocery shopping on my bicycle that both confirmed for me that the entire city was ocean side, and also sealed the deal that I would, despite the crowds, go down too.

It was just dreamy.

Riding my bicycle on the Great Highway and the sun warm on my face, the breeze, yes cool, I didn’t want to be in the shade today, which in San Francisco is its own mircro climate, but gorgeous, truly.

January 25th and the temperature was in the mid sixties.

I’ll take it.

Although my preference was to take it easy.

I haven’t had an easy Sunday for a while.

I have been coming and going and doing and being and breaking up and having feelings and you know, stuff.

Today.

Well.

It all fell away, like a dream, I woke up and there was the beach beckoning and my back yard beckoning and I could not but heed the call.

I had lunch on my patio and sat with my feet in a chair listening to Coleman Hawkins on the stereo and dining al fresco in the sun.

It is just protected enough by the houses surrounding it that it tends to be just a bit warmer than if I was outside in front of the house.

It soaks up the sunshine and reflects it back.

When it’s hot, it’s not too pleasant, but it is infrequently hot.

I read a magazine.

I closed my eyes and drifted in and out.

I read more of my Stephen King novel, Doctor Sleep.

I drank some tea.

I listened to the birds.

Ravens.

Finches.

Gulls.

I heard the scream of a hunting hawk.

I heard the faint shush of the sea.

During the day it’s a lot harder to hear, too much back ground noise, but in between the birdsong and the N-Judah train running, occasionally I would catch just the barest hint of surf crashing.

Muffled.

Yet joyful.

When I first moved out here and it was suggested that I take Sundays and allow myself to have some down time and to not make plans, I got really freaked out.

Spend time with myself?

No way man.

I might have feelings.

I have places to be, things to do.

I have to get ahead, man.

However, I am a suggestion monster, and so I did.

I sat.

I got still.

I listened to the sea.

I listened to my heart.

I did cry.

And then something happened.

The stillness sunk in and I started to need it.

I started to crave it.

And then I forgot, sort of, all about it, when I got into the relationship.

I do recall having thoughts about going down for a walk on the beach with the ex-boyfriend, but he wasn’t much for walking on the beach.

I don’t believe I ever asked either, I’m sure he would have been game, but we never did.

Add to ideal.

Ugh.

Yes.

I would like to go for walks by the sea.

I mean, yeah, it’s a stupid cliché.

But it’s also my back yard and I like walking and really, when I live so close, it seems silly to not enjoy it.

I mean.

Come on.

It’s gorgeous.

Sunset Ocean Beach

I had made a few resolutions about today.

Deal with my taxes, meaning, contact my families from 2014 and find out what they are claiming for child care, if they are claiming, and request that information by the 31st of the month.

Done and done.

I sent out the e-mail earlier.

Order a pair of jeans online.

I know my size, I know what kind I like to wear, so order them.

Thanks Ebay!

I found a pair of the normally $175 jeans for $19.99 plus shipping.

$25.88 and I have a new pair of jeans coming to me in the mail.

Next.

Walk to the beach and watch the sunset.

Allow myself to enjoy my neighborhood and not be wary of running into my ex.

Then it happened.

I realized I wasn’t afraid to run into my ex.

It wasn’t like I wanted to.

It was more that, as I was walking down Judah toward the beach, that I suddenly knew that whenever we saw each other next, it would be alright.

The thought of seeing him didn’t make me want to cross the street to avoid him.

Which is a good thing since he lives four and a half blocks away.

I didn’t run into him, in case you were wondering.

But I’m not afraid to.

And that felt nice.

Like.

Oh.

The world.

It has moved on.

And so have I.

I am back into my groove.

I have my jazz on the stereo, my face full of sunshine, my belly replete with tea and good food, the weekend was restful, I got to read, I accomplished the basic household stuff that needs to be done, grocery shopped, and did the deal.

And I got to go for a romantic walk on the beach with the best girl in the neighborhood.

Me.

 

“To love oneself is the begging of a life-long romance.”

-Oscar Wilde