Thank you for 1000!

Today, actually this day we are in, not one in 2008, my blog has been looked at 1000 times. This entry is devoted to those readers who find my musings amusing.

I am made of all of you. You've contributed to my sense of humor, my ability to see beauty in almost everything, my sanity and my insanity, my values, my beliefs, my strength. You've nurtured my gifts, you've tolerated my flaws, you've loved me without judgement and taught me what that looks like so I can do the same for others. You give me the freedom to be who I can for each of you. You don't pressure me to be something you want. You find joy in my joy, and I am so very pleased when your dreams are flourishing.  We are independently dependant co-creators. I am in love with everything I learn from you. Thank you for letting me be the stew of you and for allowing me the greatest privilege of adding to your brew. Here's to you:

August 22, 2008 - Squirrels & Sisters

What a change is here. I am saved over and over from getting too lost again. Saved by squirrel highways, sisters, fat birds, and crooked trees.

I am facing the me who needs to walk and look and breathe with music filling me and changing the space all around me. It seems...no, it is that the world climbs into sync to whatever I'm listening to. It's MAGIC.



I am dying, always dying, and no one will miss me because they will be filled with the source of me that will be spilling out like sunshine through the clouds.

Someday now I will dance every time the spirit moves me, and spread my arms like wings when I walk,

and sing out when I know it's time without self-consciousness because my self will be dead at last, not hiding, and my essence will be free

August 15, 2008 - Poorly Timed "Back to School" Entry

1st day of the new school year...Dana is wonderful. Of course she is...she is made of the same teachery stuff. So far I love her care, her slight awkwardness minus the self-consciousness, and her appreciation for her own nerdiness.

My favorite quote today...said by Mary-Tina after sticking her finger into the four leaf clover tattoo on Dana's neck...  "Thank you for letting me poke your shamrock."

Also, this same fantasitc day... at the Reg Weaver dinner at Mr. Benny's... Ken Wendorff says, as two bowls of veggies are being passed to him, ..."Uh oh, this is where the green beans collide."

I work with funny people. I adore them and my good fortune.

August 13, 2008 - The Four Agreements

Today I received The Four Agreements in the mail. It is a gem! Mary-Tina recommended it and I called to thank her. She teased me about earning a Doctorate in Spiritual Mysticism. I feel like an infant in my practicing. I will be impeccable with my word. I will not take anything personally. I will not make assumptions. I will always do my best. This will change everything. We are made of light.

Tomorrow I meet Dana Frazier (Comiskey?) @ Barnes and Nobles. I spent time getting my classroom ready, and now I wait at Cilantros for Marcia Garcia. By the way, Dana is my new student teacher who was sent my way via Todd DeStigter who I hope to spend time laughing with again.

Dana Marie Comiskey-Best Student Teacher Sister Friend Nutjob Joy ever.

The Board meeting will be a great opportunity for me to practice the Four Agreements. I've never been able to remain happy and present throughout one. I get all toxic inside my guts everytime I put myself at one of those meetings. If I can keep my joy there, then Mary-Tina may have a point. We'll see. It is crazy goodness how all things, all energy, seems to be working with me to find that light; the light I always knew was within me, and turn it on, again and again, until it gets stuck forever in the on position.
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To demonstrate my struggle in my own unfolding, it is four years since I wrote this entry, and I am still full of darkness and anger at Board meetings. I still take it personal when one of those misinformed, non-educators says something terrible about teachers. I still wish for terrible things to happen to a certain community member because of the way she spreads and perpetuates racism, teacher-hatred, and misplaced cliches. I still assume the majority of our Board thinks the worst of us, and although I may often try to do my best while in the same room with many of those people, that's not saying much because my best looks ugly when I am full of that cancer.  The only success I've experienced is when I read bird magazines or doodle or send silly texts to friends...which is clearly avoidance and not very present. If there is anyone who has some teachings in this direction...I would LOVE some insight!

August 7, 2008 - The Douglas Social

After a Pontoon cruise with the fam, and then a long church-walk from our rental in Douglas to downtown Saugatuck and back, Jen and I walk to the park to check out the Douglas Social. The band is bluesy and right now they sound like a groovey train. The new spot in the shade we found is cool and delicious. The breeze is sweet and constant on my slightly sunburnt arms and face. This is old school goodness, all these people enjoying a reason to gather, and it is proof that we are not as seperate as we imagine.

In the Vintage Splendor (the name of this year's family reunion rental), me, Bob, Jen, and Joe are sharing a huge bedroom that reminds me of younger us. Jen and I have been sitting up at night talking like we did when we shared a room as teenagers. I remember how much those talks filled me and refilled me. Growing up together has been a gift that I've too often taken for granted. Today I know better. No one, more than Jen, shows me what it looks like to choose joy...over and over and over...and it is beautiful.

August 6, 2008 - Down by the River

My love, mom & dad, Mira, and I decided to try the new bowling alley restaurant called The Grill. We thought it looked nice...with a cool outdoor eating area...plus, it got good reviews from a few Colliers. We are here now, and not very impressed. I'm having trouble staying present because I am wishing
I went with Jen and Joe to visit the swan couple who hang out perfectly in the lily pads of Kalamazoo Lake. I imagine them (Jen and Joe) holding hands quietly watching the swan couple make heart shapes from their gorgeous necks and faces while I try hard not to look at my dad as he attempts, as always, to hit on our waitress.

Earlier today, Bob and I had a scooter adventure. 

 Everywhere we went was goodness. My favorite stop was the pier near Mt. Baldy. It has become an accidental habit for us to sit on the bench down by the river and watch the boats go by.

The sounds always bring me back to early 1980's. Three guys were rockin out to Baba O'Riley on their party barge - probably high as kites...adding to the strength of my riverside flashback.

The breeze from the river seduced us both, as we were cuddlier and lovier than usual. Bob loves that river. Every year as we sit there, he assures himself that someday he will have a place right there on that river...with me. I know we already have it.

July 30, 2008 -At the Firehouse

I'm here at the firehouse so Bob can update our new phones. I'm not even really sure what that means. I am lucky to be loved by Bob. His truck got called out for a carbon monoxide report. I am left in the back room to babysit cell phones.

There were kids in gang colors all down 95th street asking for donations. Drug sales must be down this month.

A funny man was selling bubble guns on 95th and Stoney...filling the often threatening intersection with absurd silly goodness in the shape of five thousand floating balls of ironic joy with every pump of his ridiculous gun.

I saw a baby maple bent over from the fierce but short storm, and I denied my urge to pull over and straighten it up. Why? I am regretting that choice now. It would be cooler to write about that as something I did.

My dad came by last night to do an estimate for my neighbor's driveway repavement. He was worn out and thirsty and hungry. I gave him grape pop, a baggie of grapes (green, red, and black), and I warmed up his gross coffee. I do all of these things with a happy heart. Nothing icky is anywhere near my consciousness. Am I learning forgiveness? or have I gotten better at not identifying with the past, with people, with forms? Regardless, I can spend more moments with peace inside me. No nervousness. No discomfort. Just me.

I hear the firetruck backing in...beep beep beep beep beep beep.

July 27, 2008 - Joe and Jenny's B&B

This Morning's Antidrama Presents: 

Squirrel Trouble

The Oak Tree Highway provides rapid transit

to the show of leaves 

that periodically 

tumble down the trunk obnoxiously 

thrown by balls of busy grey fur!

Also Featuring:

A purple kayak

so still,

visiting 

of its own 

purple 

will. 

During the show

in the balcony section and

at every window sill,

Breezes pass out delicious chills

And all of this to 

the subtle 

but 

gorgeous 

sounds 

of 

The Crown Point Morning Nature Symphony Orchestra

(And a solo from a frog 

who plays a song that begins as a lonely drone, 

but ends in hope and home.)

The sun...

 providing a spotlight for it all,

bringing that magic that comes with dusk or dawn 

on perfect days. 

This is the dawn inside 

this perfect me

at Joe and Jenny's 

B&B.

July 15, 2008 - Dreaming of Mimi

Last night I dreamt of Mimi. She was fragile, after losing Papa, and we need to tie her coffee cup to hang from a door (who knows why, it's a dream, right?) We need string so I see some wrapping ribbon, black and gold, in a small mess next to a deflated balloon on a little round end table. I cut pieces of it, admiring my resourcefulness, to do the trick. Then I notice a note - I know right away it's to her, from Papa. (Papa was always writing clever little notes to his loved ones...it was the way he chose to emote.) She was holding on to that old balloon and ribbon and note for a reason. She was going to be mad at me for messing with it...for cutting those ribbons. Nothing felt worse than Mimi's disappointment. I woke up overcome with guilt for my carelessness.

I miss her soft hands and how they would close around my hand, patting tenderly --causing me to be still at a time when I didn't value being still --I didn't understand why anyone would wish to be still. But in those moments, with her hands holding me in that space, somehow I did understand. Today I will practice being in that space...and try to let go of some of the guilt that still hangs on me for losing her while she was in my care.

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I suppose even today, March 10, 2012, I hold on to some of that darkness, as I can't help but cry typing these words from four years ago. It is an awkward mix of missing and wishing and regretting...all of it stinging. I am allowing it at this moment, for this brief time, and then I will imagine her, with her hands enclosing one of my own, saying, "Stop that, Gina, it's not doing you any good, now.... I'll go get us some cookies." Then we will sit down, eat her favorite meal together, and she will tell me stories of her coming of age, being courted by boys, and of her falling in love with Papa. After imagining this favorite scene, I will stop crying, smile, hug her tiny frame with my heart, and let go until the next wave.
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July 14, 2008 - Door County

Before 8 a.m. @ Leroy's

Little birds with crazy mohawks hop around my feet collecting crumbs. I would like to walk to Leroy's every morning to spend this early hour reflecting, dreaming, looking at people and little birds and six-trunked trees encircled in flagstone and surrounded by iron tables and chairs speckled in sunlight. I can see a burst of it right now in my hair that is shining on my right shoulder and a few small specks on my left knee and hand, the shadows of the tree giving it a kalidascope effect. Oh, there goes mohawk...

I think it's time to try writing again, but I have these annoying voices telling me not to waste my time...they say, "you have no memory for details...writers remember details...and you're not really interesting or exotic in any way...no one has anything to learn from you...unless they needed a little help writing a high school-level essay, figuring out what the hell Shakespeare was trying to say, or determining what the character Piggy symbolizes in Lord of the Flies."

It is so like my own ego to beat me down...pretending to warn me about wasting time...but really is  it afraid I might discover something amazing?...like I am not my ego? Then where would it be? At least, sometimes, I can recognize it for what it is now. If only I could shut it up completely.

Up! Mohawk just came back - all squeaky and adorable - taking me away from my "self" for a moment. I love you, Mohawk.

I'm aching to connect with new people in a more natural way. I am hiding behind my earphones and my notebook. It's like being alone inside a movie...or one of those dreams where you are in it, but not in it...no one can see or hear you. I feel safe this way, invulnerable. But I risk nothing and form no new relationships. I wonder why I am leary of new relationships.

I notice dog owners seem more willing to reach out. They seem happier. But are they hiding behind their pets the way I hide behind my notebook and earphones? The way I used to hide behind cigarettes? Interesting. What are we all so afraid of?

July 12, 2008 - Door County

It's the first morning in Door County with my love. I'm putting the pen to the paper to put the pen to the paper first. Secondarily I want to...I'm not sure... get at where I am right now. I'm alone, sitting on a wet iron chair outside Leroy's Cafe with a blueberry muffin on a small green fiesta plate and an iced latte. The muffin is tipped and 1/3 eaten, part of the sugary top, waiting off to the side for last. mmm. It is sunny and extra dewy from previous rain. The earth smells as good as this muffin and latte. Now is quiet, except for the birds, Lyle Lovett's Boys form North Dakota in my ears, feint sound of a conversation about kids and dogs at the table next door, and a car rolling by every so often. Tears of peace are welling in my eyes, not quite spilling over. Every time I open this notebook, the trees throw big drops of last night's rain at me and it and my gorgeous muffin. Are they trying to tell me to just sit still? I think so. It is making me laugh out loud.

Later - Sunset at the Pine Grove Beach.

Bob is golfing, I am sprawled in the grass, quilting the very-breezie-evening-Door-County-air into my guest-room-beach-pajama-quilt #2...Van Morrison keeping me company. Today Bob and I scooted to Fish Creek and walked around. We stopped at an Oilerie? It was a vinegar & oil bar...we tried little cups of V & O and purchased Spanish Olive Oil and Balsamic Pear Vinegar. We ate lunch outside at a little place called, simply enough, Summer Restaurant. An Elton John-Billy Joel-Chris Daughtry-esque singer/keyboardist was doing some live entertaining outside an art gallery where we sat for a spell. We watched lesbians sneaking caresses, old guys getting sentimental, little dark curly-haired princesses dancing around in bright red sundresses, heads bobbing up and down to the music... People are so drawn to music. It puts everyone together under one sound blanket and wraps us up and reminds us of our humanity and un-separateness. Even the loneliest people don't seem to have a choice. They just connect and let the blanket wrap them up and hug them a little.

I just noticed this patch of daisies poking their pretty heads up just far enough over the bank for me to see them dancing...the lapping waves their backdrop. I love them.

Later still - Tonight I did a solitary walking tour of deeper Ephraim's enchanting historic properties. These homes and farms and grave yards are from a time period that made me feel like it might be okay to knock on doors and ask to sit in trees, on decks, and wander through gardens and woods. There is an especially awesome tree that is all over this area that has these low, couch-like limbs that just beg to be of use to someone who would appreciate the moment spent there.

After my walk,  Bob met me at Leroy's from the golf course and rode me back to Pine Grove on the back of the Colonel with Bob's golf clubs on my back. It was romantic and scary and awesome. Bob likes to take off from stops in a way that makes me hold him tighter. I love and hate that.
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The Colonel is the name we gave Bob's scooter, because of its ruff-and-tumble-off-road-camouflage-themed-dorky-coolness. Here is a picture of our scooters, Sissy & the Colonel, before their paint jobs: