Pre-Wedding Post #1

I just elbow-nudged R to move over so I can type freely. A queen bed is feeling smaller and smaller all the time!

I also just said, “I hate farts!” out loud. I hate farts in enclosed spaces. It’s like a sign that humans are not meant to live within 4 walls, but out in nature where the wind can do her job.

There is something interesting about preparing to be wedded during divisive political times. I heard it said poetically that when Kaepernick took a knee, Americans had to take a stand. They just arrested a radical right-wing bombing suspect, taking violent rhetoric to its ultimate end. Thankfully America is standing for peace together against this display of violence toward prominent democrats. It’s painful and gross to see Republicans try to spin this to somehow be a Democrat problem.

It’s all the more interesting given my heritage of conservatism. Quarreling with family members and their friends has been a flavor of this year, and it has left me with an intensified feeling that I am truly going through a rite of passage where I become my own woman, setting the stage for my own family–my own values. And abandoning those ways of talking, doing, and being which no longer serve me.

I see values on a balanced scale anyway: sometimes we tilt more right or left, but neither side needs to be demonized. Humans love to invent or root out problems, even where there are relatively few (given the scale of all the world’s problems).

I am grateful for the few problems we have.

I am slowly becoming more physically active again. Going to lots of yoga classes has been working, and now adding in interval jogging is working well. Personal training not going as great–hard to get a consistently good trainer. I asked for the most knowledgeable person, but they turned out narcissistic, so next time I’d just ask for a competent and attentive person. It’s like that Brendan Frazier movie–careful what you ask for.

Wet thoughts

Forced myself to go to the pool tonight. “You’ll love it when you get there.” Inertia is strong.

Indeed, surrounded by water my thoughts have room to exhale. So many pour out, swirl, combine. Emotions and memories held in the body surface for me to face. Information locked within them is retrieved. Conclusions are drawn. Visions are formed.

I move freely; gracefully. I exert and relax completely. I rebalance and adjust my Achilles’…my spine…and shoulders. I breathe. I dive. I warm. I stretch.

I swim.

Always Called, Never a Juror

As I took my seat in the packed courtroom, the defendant and his attorney surveyed the pool of jurors. Were they looking for a sympathetic face? They scanned us like someone desperate to make a friend. I averted my gaze lest they think I was too friendly, or too likely to sympathize. Surely this young man with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair with streaks of white was the defendant. Once his name was read I was certain. With a name like Mr. White Trash Insect, he was doomed. Ms. Christmas, representing the people, would make sure Justice was served.

Two young women in headscarves sat at the front of the room. They seemed very serious. They were not part of the jury.

The judge was passionate about justice. She spent nearly an hour explaining the process to us. Her idealism moved me to tears. Her voice carried the strength and resolve of the institution she represented. Yes, ma’m, I would feel honored to serve our country on a jury.

Less about me

Just write
Terror
Desperation
Cycles of Pain
Restlessness
Chaos

How has it been 17 years?
Starting a family
Lust for comfort
Choosing or being chosen
Attracted to the exotic

Don’t let them prey upon your dreams
Too sheltered
Too exposed
Wanting to integrate

Keep me humble
Less about me

Zoom In

A silver-lined spiral
Perched up high in the nothingness of air
Obsessed with this image
I keep changing homes
In my dreams
Always new treasures, bigger rooms;
Signaling a better life is in store for me
But the toilets never work

Winter thoughts

Dry leaves cracking beneath my shoe
The heavy darkness of winter
Temptations of hibernation
But we keep on
Even though we are probably better off conserving energy for more fruitful times
The thrusting of rockets is a pattern engrained
An aggressive bet against a weak hand