i am grateful for:
1) walking four flat, sunny, orange-leafy miles in the mohonk mountain preserve–and that fresh, scrubbed, sweaty-happy outdoors feeling
2) overlooks
3) overlooked underlooks–it’s not always about the vista. sometimes those walls of trees are what’s really happening.
4) 12 hours of sleep
5) a massage. not least because of the lavender oil. that’s one of those weird things about being single or roomateless: dry backs. at least in the middle. maybe i need a cat–i can dip her paws in non-toxic oil and have her walk on my back? maybe i just need to bring back the days of massage trades. anyone?
6) water
7) seeing so many women rock-climbers today. on belay!
8) the incredibly nice staff at the brauhaus in gardiner. and realizing i had been there before, like 20 years ago before, but can’t figure out why or with whom. dara? zak? hm.
9) feeling the kind, sweet difference between being alone and solitude–the latter having a bunch of grace
10) galileo, by the indigo girls “how long till my soul gets it right? can any human being ever reach that kind of light? i call on the resting soul of galileo–king of night vision, king of insight.”
11) my giantess. you know when you catch glimpses of your giantest self? like projections of the largest, most passionate and important and therefore beautiful sides of you? mine is like animal at the end of the muppet movie. and it’s love. creative, dancing, burst-through-the-roof sized love. not nice-nice, but creative and hot and dying to find a way to come out and play with the world, to speak. and i’m thinking that’s why man-woman stuff makes me so nutsy: the love animal awakens at the slightest provocation and she is so excited but then attaches to that person or people as the only way she can come out. and when they leave, it feels like they have taken my love-animal access card with them. so, the latest challenge: how to let our most passionate, alive selves out without hurting anyone with need, or hurting ourselves with shame? how to truly boogie. alone. or not dependent. i feel it when i write or dance. or in a great conversation. or even painting sometimes. or when i’ve done a great deed. or spoken my truth or had someone else’s spoken truth ring all my bells. you? when are you truly alive?
1 Comment
3) so many people underlook birds, i often think.
5) mm, lavender. (and tell me about it: i haven’t had a good back-scratch in years.)
9) yes!
11) wonderful and lovely. other than in rapt conversation with new, smart, funny people (like last night at maine lit), i am most alive when i’m birding or cycling or writing, solo. i think sharing a hike at gloaming would rank right up there, though. 😉