and incomplete but true rendering of the meaning behind words.
* an inexplicable event. a wanted wonder. a thing beyond understandable definition.
* nearly everything.
* wild film festival. sandwiches. saying what i want to say, without clenching in or leaking out. a play about broken beautiful things. the grown up score, of having found a true friend.
* the feeling or experience of knowing that no matter what the events may be, the happenings in the day, that i was all the way here, fully inside them and whole unto myself. the risk of openness and eye contact with life as it happens. and so there is no regret for what was not done or said, the almost or maybe.
* the time when i stayed. the time when i left. the time when i realized that i could never outrun myself. the time when i became my own home.
* a protection.
* a terrible vulnerability.
* map of memory. geography of wanting. voice of the unspoken things. and then there was that moment, when the mouth moved from shoulder to back of neck.
* movement. passage. the crossing over from one thing to a next. the tight door. the wide open lostness. the not this and not yet that.
* the space where it is unclear what is dying and what is being born, only that both are somehow happening.
* when you understand you can never go back. and how this can be both a staggering loss and a welcome relief. when you understand that things did not and do not stop, which is horrible. and wonderful. and there is some kind of bridge, between one thing and a next, and you are walking over it.
* the residence i choose to occupy.
* place of belonging.
* the real substance of a thing.
* the color of growing things.
* assuming you know better than someone else, about what they need and should or should not do or eat or believe or change. trying to fix someone, as if they are broken.
* unsolicited advice. which is the vast majority.
* the names i was called. and how hard it was, to find my own voice in the thickness of so much attack. and how i finally did. and the only response that came from me was the honest one. "go to hell." and i could never go back to that again. because the woman i was then, who sat there and went numb with silence. . . she doesn't live here anymore.
- freedom. and love. and not having to choose between them.
* the answer i gave, when she asked me, "what do you want?"
both noun and verb
* a shelter. to shelter.
yes to both.
* anchored in the waves.
* where i've been spending a lot of my time.
* sitting in the doctor's office. waiting to be called in. waiting for the next round of tests. waiting for the results. and the way she called out the names. and the way she offered the deepest respect. and the way no offense was taken, at my obscene ability to laugh at myself and the complications of living. and how she said, "if we met in different circumstances, we would be good friends". and the precision of the arrow. and the rebellion of being real.
not at all like i thought it would look like.
a thing far more inclusive, polarizing, wild and quiet and complete.
how it happens at night in the bathtub. and in the wrestling. and in the smallest of things, like looking both ways before crossing the street.
* a thing given without being earned or in exchange for something else as payment. without making sure the person is worthy or "should" have it. without asking it be paid back, in any form, even gratitude.
just here, this is mine, and now i am giving it to you. take it if you want. it's yours, to do whatever you want or need with it. and also, i love you.
* “Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words "make" and "stay" become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free.” - tom robbins
* not an ending, but just a pause.
* not a taking away from, but a momentary carrying for.
* not a removal but a rest.
- the unknown
* where i choose to go, again and again.
* in some way or another, nearly everything.