January: Let's Play Catch-up

 Herself speaks.

Hello, lovely Readers! It's been... a bit.  Here we are in the third week of January already - this month has seemed both endless and incredibly speedy. 

I thought about writing one long post to cover all of the ground and bring us up to date, but that seemed like it would be unduly complex and meandering. And so, I present to you: a series of posts, gathered by topic, to summarize how the New Year has been. 

Here we go.

Sandra Boynton is the most magnificent artist/author.

I love her creativity.

Sweet Sixteen

 Sixteen years ago, I arrived. 

It's been quite the journey.  (The past year, in particular, has been... a bit much.) Posting has been slow at times, verbose at others, and there have been many, many moments of introspective ruminations. 

Thank you, gentle readers, for wandering on this journey with me. It is good to have the Company, and I am Grateful. 

One we go.

It's Been A Bit

 Well, gentle reader, we started this Journey together on June 8, 2009.  It's been a lot of water under the bridge since then.  I know the past year and a half has been particularly difficult, too, and that words have been sparse.  I'm grateful that you, and I, have persevered over all this time.

It's been quite the journey.  let's see where we go next. 

Thirty-fifth

Item one: I recently attended my thirty-fifth college reunion.

It seems absolutely impossible that so much time has passed since I graduated from college. So much water under the bridge. 

I saw my roommates from that time. Such lovely women, so kind and warm and witty and thoughtful. I feel that I am undeserving of them -- why should they be so very kind and warm to me? Who am I? I am nobody. I am History. 

To experience affection from someone, due to shared history and experiences from thirty-five years ago with little contact in the intervening decades, is an odd thing. Yet on the other hand, it felt so natural to me, to want to hug them and spend time with them and be near them. I am extremely fond of them. They are genuinely marvelous people. I appreciate them so much more now, than I did in my youth. 

And to love them is, in a weird little way, to also love the me that I once was, thirty-five years ago. That me does deserve a little love, after all. She was underloved by me back then. 

I do need to see these lovely women more often. I should make it a mission, to let them know how much they mean to me now. Because life is short, and people should know that they are important. 

The world needs a little more love in it. 

Fourteen

 Fourteen years ago, I arrived.

Thank you, gentle readers, for walking this journey with me.

Scrabble

 Over the years, we have honed our Scrabble skills. Mine are still inferior, but are improving slowly.

Game one:

288 to 270 (his win)

Game two:

360 to 375 (my win)

Game three, the tiebreaker:

360 to 344 (his win)

(yes, his win, despite my having played 

a 152-point word on my very first move)

If I were asked why I like my Friend as much as I do, one very short answer -- which is both literally and metaphorically apt -- would be:

Because he plays an excellent game of Scrabble.

Thirteen

 Thirteen years ago, I arrived. 

Thank you, stalwart readers, for following these meandering, introspective ruminations over the years. I am grateful for your presence.

Onward we go. 

Thirty-Two

Thirty-two years ago, on a clear Friday afternoon, I turned in my senior thesis to my advisor, and then went for a walk in a lovely green area near campus with then-Beloved-Boyfriend.  He had flown up from his desert land to my humid east-coast state to attend an end-of-year formal with me. I hadn't seen him for three or four months previously -- we were in the midst of our ultimately three-and-a-half years of long distance -- and it was a curiously calm sensation, to be together. Or perhaps it was the absence of longing to be together, that made everything seem so tranquil. We sat under a beautiful leafy tree, and he asked me a certain question. I responded, and then we walked back to campus, newly engaged. 

It was a most memorable day. 

Sunshine

This time of year, there is a little square of sunshine that appears on the third-to-bottom stair in the morning. Tiny Dog likes to sit her tiny self in the sunshine for a few minutes. Nice. 

-----

When Offspring the Third was newly hatched, he was a bit jaundiced. The pediatrician recommended a bit of sunshine to help. In the house in which we lived at the time, a lovely ray of sunshine would come in through the family room window mid-morning, and I would warm the room and undress him so he could bask in the sun on my lap. It was a lovely quiet time. 

So long ago.

My heart cracks just a little bit, remembering the days when the Offspring were small. 

Off-ramp/On-ramp

Herself speaks.

There may be a divergence soon. Though it is not unexpected, it is not without complex emotions: hope and grief go hand-in-hand. There are places unknown, but with tremendous potential, on the metaphorical -- and likely literal -- horizon.  An on-ramp is finally visible for a highway long sought.

I shall write more once a ball is set in motion.

Until then, we seek solace in an old favorite: Amen Omen, of Ben Harper.

Roots

For the first time within memory, I got to see the place where my parents lived when I was born. Nifty. 

50

A Good Day

Today's agenda:

Achieve some sense of order

To start the new year.

Herself speaks.

Today, I accomplished A Few Things. 

I organized cabinets; scrubbed the stove; repotted a plant; denuded, disassembled, and put away the Christmas tree and all its accoutrements; rearranged the furniture in the front room back to its ordinary, Christmas-tree-less layout; made chili; fixed the vacuum with the help of a screwdriver and a bit of luck; prepared Offspring the Third's favorite lemon chicken; washed, folded, and put away five loads of laundry; cleaned a bathroom; scrubbed Rocky the hamster's habitat; made lunches for tomorrow; prepared a muffin mix for the morning; and made a quick run to the grocery store for additional supplies for the week. I think that's all. 

There are still More Things To Do. Nevertheless, I feel as though I have made a Good Start. And as an added bonus, there was a lovely sunset this evening. 

It was a satisfactory day, indeed.  

Temporal 1,461

Our recent 1,000th post was a milestone marker, celebrating the journey of steps as shown by the number of entries composed for the blog.  Today, we find another noteworthy moment.  Rather than speaking to volume of posts, however, this landmark speaks to time:  four years ago (1,461 days - including a leap day), the very first post appeared.  I had arrived.

Thank you, my readers, not only for taking each of the steps with me, but also for bearing witness to my evolution over time.  I am glad to be who, where, and when I am; I am doubly glad that you are who, where, and when you are, with me.

1,000 Steps

We have traveled far
From the beginning, to this,
Millennial post.

We do not yet know
Where the path leads, or wherefore;
Step by step, we go.

The sojourn abides.
We are glad for the journey
And your company.

All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.  - Martin Buber

The Hand of God

Twenty-five years ago this evening, Herself and her Beloved went on their first date.  (We have recounted the story of The Beginning before, here.)  She and he were discussing the date, and the subsequent twenty-five years, this morning.  He mused about their very different backgrounds, and commented that the establishment of a relationship between the two of them seemed almost random.

ran·dom [ran-duhm]
adjective  1.  proceeding, made, or occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern: the random selection of numbers.

No. Not random.

Herself is not a firm believer in a Higher Power, an overarching scheme, or some kind of Cosmic Life Force.  Nevertheless, there have been rare occasions when she has had the sensation that a person or a place is one of tremendous (though enigmatic) importance:  a feeling as if all of the pieces of the Universe purposefully aligned in such a way so as to make an event -- such as a meeting of a particular person, the formation of a relationship -- come to pass.  A poet might call it the hand of God.

What is the Reason in the Universe for Herself's relationship with her Beloved?

Perhaps, for example, their relationship has been necessary in order to produce the Offspring in their unique forms at their unique times. Perhaps one of the Offspring -- or even perhaps one of the Offspring's future Offspring -- will be instrumental in another person's life. Or a world event.  Or neither - perhaps they will quietly, in their own beautiful ways, make their corners of the world a better place.  

Or on a more mundane level, perhaps their relationship is necessary in order for Herself to learn certain lessons:  how to be patient, how to be forgiving, how to see the world from a different point of view.  How to understand herself and what she wants and needs.  How to be the kind of person she wants to be.

Their relationship has been the vital skeleton upon which she has fleshed out her adulthood, and she is thankful for this foundation.    It has made it possible for her to learn and to rise to her challenges.  She has needed to meet certain other people, overcome particular obstacles, and put the puzzle pieces of her Life together.  Like Harry Potter, she must come to understand that not every monster is truly monstrous; she must come to know the true value of magic and house elves, of children's stories and wandlore and the power of words; she must learn to cherish a friend and be grateful for their unbreakable bonds of friendship; and ultimately, she must conquer her fear of death.  As must he, as well.

Many of these things they will learn together.  Some of them, too, each will learn alone, like parallel lines, or twin trees. As it should be.

You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. 
You shall be together when white wings of death scatter your days.
Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness, 

And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow. 

- Kahlil Gibran

Perhaps, at the end of Time, they will learn why the hand of God placed them together. 

Pull: Questions

Sometimes when we need an escape, we contemplate: what we would do, if we could do anything?  Where would we go? What type of job would we have? What would we do for fun or excitement? Where would we live? HOW would we live? 

This coming week, we shall explore all these questions.  Right now, let us imagine, for just a few moments, all the possibilities.  

Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray. - Rumi

Not Anymore

Yesterday afternoon, Herself had a telephone conversation with long-term Acquaintance to arrange for Acquaintance to visit for Offspring the Third's birthday.  In the course of the conversation, Acquaintance commented on why Herself's attending of a relative's complex medical appointment last week was helpful:

You're not easily flustered by people.  Well, you are by me, but not by other people.

If seemed like a little poke, designed to put Herself off balance.  Herself ignored the statement. She would not take the bait.

Yesterday evening, when Acquaintance was visiting, Herself felt -- for the very first time in as long as she could remember -- calm and unruffled.  She allowed the little irritating things Acquaintance said to roll away. She remained unperturbed. It was a magnificent sensation.

Why the change?

For the first time, Herself understood at last that she truly does have Backup.

She was not alone. She was protected. She was safe.

Easily flustered by Acquaintance?  Oh, I think not.  Not anymore.

Herself would cry for happiness.

Three Times Seven

These twenty-one years
Have barely been enough time
To even begin.

Three Offspring later,
Two careers, myriad pets,
One busy household,

Off to a good start.
Happy anniversary.
Thank you, Beloved.

Aloe Vera, Season Two

You may recall that last year, we planted a new aloe vera to replace the one that had perished in the bitter cold spell of the winter.  Look how it thrives!  We have added new yellow floral companions to replace the annuals of last year.  It seems quite happy. We are pleased.

  Look, there are feet there!