that's all the time I've got!
I am grateful for so much as I turn 41. Grateful for the melancholy Paris trip that found my consciousness at 2AM on June 2nd, 2006 and caused the tears to flow for a life unfulfilled; grateful for Teo and Jimmy, two amazing souls who have come into my life and given me hope and strength - even though our paths may someday lead us apart, we will always be together in spirit. I am grateful for simple pleasures: the burger and chocolate milk shake I had tonight (I can't remember the last time I had a shake); for Eric from Belgium who I met while eating that burger and who needed my help to determine what cheese he should get and then just sharing stories and the realization that we really are all the same at our core; the air-conditioned bus on a hot day; the circle of annuals in my back yard and the simple breeze that finds its way through the branches of the Japanese Maple and rings the chimes on the garage. Grateful for David's nephew Nicholas who calls me "Uncle Pot" and always wants me to be wherever he is - his expressions of wonderment remind me of what life really is all about; for memories of blissful moments and family. I am grateful for the haunting and true lyrics of an Indigo Girls song like Closer to Fine (which I have been sharing with everyone lately); for physical connections and passionate kisses; for pain that allows my eventual joy to shout out with gladness. And yes, grateful for David, most grateful, because even though it is not what we expected, what we planned; even though it may best be reflected by photos in an album, there has been so much good and so much experienced that I would not have ever experienced alone.
And as I feel this gratitude, I am startled to a truth that corrects my earlier evaluation of one year ago - my life has not been wasted or unfulfilled or meaningless - indeed it has been full and grand and powerful. I am certain that there is so much more for me to do, so many more answers to be revealed. "I've gotta lotta livin' to do!"
And the journey has just begun.
I hope the Indigo Girls don't mind but since I've been sharing...
CLOSER TO FINE
I'm trying to tell you something about my life
maybe give me insight between black and white
and the best thing you've ever done for me
is to help me take my life less seriously
it's only life after all
yeah
well the darkness has a hunger that's insatiable
and the lightness has a call that's hard to hear
I wrapped my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it
I'm crawling on your shores
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
and the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine
I went to see the doctor of philosophy
with a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
he never did marry or see a b-grade movie
he graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind
got my paper and I was free
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine
I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
to seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
and I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before
and I went in seeking clarity.
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains
yeah we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains
we look to the children, we drink from the fountains
yeah we go to the bible, we go through the workout
we read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
there's more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
the less I seek my source for some definitive
(the less I seek my source)
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine
the closer I am to fine
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Friday, June 1, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
As I look to my 41st Birthday
So I will be 41 on Saturday - I am a Gemini through and through. I suppose I could spin some thoughts about how I am feeling but I am not sure it is all that different from when I turned 40. Maybe the real difference is now I am ready to take some action and stop whining and complaining about things that make me miserable or depressed. I think that 2007 is meant to be a good year for me - 7 is my lucky number after all.
I will share some of my post P-Town thoughts from this memorial day weekend. I want to move to Provincetown Mass as soon as humanly possibly. Going up two or three times a year just isn't enough anymore. It was glorious! Commercial Street, the dinners at Lobster Pot, the drinks and amazing appetizers at Jimmy's Hideaway, the dunes, our friends who feel like extended family, the lobster on the pier - all of it is filled with life and beauty for me. I also feel that I observed this about myself - I am obsessive. Maybe I have always known it, but I really saw hard conscious examples. I need to let some of it go and I am certain that some of my anxiety an depression will be released with it. The trip also underlined my continued loneliness in my current relationship. Talking to people who have seen us year after year and mentioning 15 years seemed almost surreal to me. We are certainly best friends and enjoy doing certain things together, but there is no passion, no spark - we are not in love. And frankly, I miss that. I want to find it again.
So yes, it feels a bit like 40 but this year, I will take action!
Let me share another observation from my book - on turning 40!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
I'm often lonely. It's no ones fault really; no one to blame. It is by choice, I suppose, at least some would say. I remember the days when crowds of laughter surrounded my banter. It didn't matter if they were laughing with me or at me; at least we were all having fun. I was the life of the party once ... have I told you that already? I don't care for parties now. It all changed when you showed me that the world was fool of fools and we two were the exception. My fault was in believing you and in the world proving you right. I imagine our dinners with Zinfandel, almost ice, and tastes of magnificent meals and conversation that kept my eyes from my watch. In the end, it wasn't enough, and I strayed and you disconnected and we gave up. After all, we were young and had our lives ahead of us. Better to go it alone. Better to go back to being who we were. Impossible I think. Now there is this mess I've made with these last twelve years; stumbling and searching for something, God knows what, and taking him along with me. The challenge of making him something he's not. It has failed miserably. We are lonelier together I think. In my consciousness I understand it and yet I can not pull the needle from this record. I did with you, didn't I? But age does have a way of stiffening our bones. I lied before, I think. I do know what I've always looked for, what I have always wanted ... perfection. And I've found everything, but. I know what you're thinking. How dare I be so bitchy and miserable; sharing my life as if it was agony and the glass was empty! Of course, you're right. My childhood was filled with loss but also so much life. I love school and knew it while I was in it. How rare is that? Travel and theatre and food and wine and culture and life, just fascinating and enchanting life. And maybe that is why I resent where I am now. It was then that everything was mine to touch and taste and be. I was a sponge and everything around me was fluid. I took it all in and cherished it. I ate and drank and loved and played and heard the roar of thousands, literally, and I think I miss that. Maybe I blame him for being a project that took me away from that journey, but that is not really fair I suppose, and certainly not his fault. Maybe I blame you, for changing my view, my perspective, which had always been so bright and abandoned. I could blame mother or brother; after all, they are dead. Truthfully though, I can only blame myself. I have always made my own choices and done exactly as I want. Spoiled by life and now I am angry with it. It should have given me more I think. It's all so trite, even this, as I write it seems so whiny and lame. There are a few joys now. Music makes me sing, sometimes, though I long to share it with more than just my thoughts. Movies move me, to tears mostly, when I am swept to reminiscence by similarities in character or plot. Therapeutic conversations stimulate my intellect and make me feel alive for a few minutes now and then. The Muscadet and pate in Paris was wonderful and the time in Italy was a dream. And trips to the Cape have kept me sane I suppose. The house and gardens keep me dreaming. But mostly, as droll and dull as it may seem, the reality of life at forty is loneliness. I hate it and I don't want to feel like this anymore. And it's not about being physically alone; it's about making a choice to find happiness ... to look for it and find it, or make it if it's not there. It's about letting things go and not giving a damn about the small stuff, and changing my life, not to what it once was, but to something it can be, something better than this. And I'm not having a mid-life crisis, I had that at thirty. I'm just tired of feeling this way, tired of being alone even when I'm surrounded by people, tired of missing out on whatever else is out there to learn and explore and experience. I want to smile again, and not like the cat or the hyena, but like the boy holding the balloon and eating the ice-cream and holding his mother's hand as they walk along the river to the ferry. That is what I long for. As I blow out the candles on my cake, that is what I wish for.
I will share some of my post P-Town thoughts from this memorial day weekend. I want to move to Provincetown Mass as soon as humanly possibly. Going up two or three times a year just isn't enough anymore. It was glorious! Commercial Street, the dinners at Lobster Pot, the drinks and amazing appetizers at Jimmy's Hideaway, the dunes, our friends who feel like extended family, the lobster on the pier - all of it is filled with life and beauty for me. I also feel that I observed this about myself - I am obsessive. Maybe I have always known it, but I really saw hard conscious examples. I need to let some of it go and I am certain that some of my anxiety an depression will be released with it. The trip also underlined my continued loneliness in my current relationship. Talking to people who have seen us year after year and mentioning 15 years seemed almost surreal to me. We are certainly best friends and enjoy doing certain things together, but there is no passion, no spark - we are not in love. And frankly, I miss that. I want to find it again.
So yes, it feels a bit like 40 but this year, I will take action!
Let me share another observation from my book - on turning 40!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
I'm often lonely. It's no ones fault really; no one to blame. It is by choice, I suppose, at least some would say. I remember the days when crowds of laughter surrounded my banter. It didn't matter if they were laughing with me or at me; at least we were all having fun. I was the life of the party once ... have I told you that already? I don't care for parties now. It all changed when you showed me that the world was fool of fools and we two were the exception. My fault was in believing you and in the world proving you right. I imagine our dinners with Zinfandel, almost ice, and tastes of magnificent meals and conversation that kept my eyes from my watch. In the end, it wasn't enough, and I strayed and you disconnected and we gave up. After all, we were young and had our lives ahead of us. Better to go it alone. Better to go back to being who we were. Impossible I think. Now there is this mess I've made with these last twelve years; stumbling and searching for something, God knows what, and taking him along with me. The challenge of making him something he's not. It has failed miserably. We are lonelier together I think. In my consciousness I understand it and yet I can not pull the needle from this record. I did with you, didn't I? But age does have a way of stiffening our bones. I lied before, I think. I do know what I've always looked for, what I have always wanted ... perfection. And I've found everything, but. I know what you're thinking. How dare I be so bitchy and miserable; sharing my life as if it was agony and the glass was empty! Of course, you're right. My childhood was filled with loss but also so much life. I love school and knew it while I was in it. How rare is that? Travel and theatre and food and wine and culture and life, just fascinating and enchanting life. And maybe that is why I resent where I am now. It was then that everything was mine to touch and taste and be. I was a sponge and everything around me was fluid. I took it all in and cherished it. I ate and drank and loved and played and heard the roar of thousands, literally, and I think I miss that. Maybe I blame him for being a project that took me away from that journey, but that is not really fair I suppose, and certainly not his fault. Maybe I blame you, for changing my view, my perspective, which had always been so bright and abandoned. I could blame mother or brother; after all, they are dead. Truthfully though, I can only blame myself. I have always made my own choices and done exactly as I want. Spoiled by life and now I am angry with it. It should have given me more I think. It's all so trite, even this, as I write it seems so whiny and lame. There are a few joys now. Music makes me sing, sometimes, though I long to share it with more than just my thoughts. Movies move me, to tears mostly, when I am swept to reminiscence by similarities in character or plot. Therapeutic conversations stimulate my intellect and make me feel alive for a few minutes now and then. The Muscadet and pate in Paris was wonderful and the time in Italy was a dream. And trips to the Cape have kept me sane I suppose. The house and gardens keep me dreaming. But mostly, as droll and dull as it may seem, the reality of life at forty is loneliness. I hate it and I don't want to feel like this anymore. And it's not about being physically alone; it's about making a choice to find happiness ... to look for it and find it, or make it if it's not there. It's about letting things go and not giving a damn about the small stuff, and changing my life, not to what it once was, but to something it can be, something better than this. And I'm not having a mid-life crisis, I had that at thirty. I'm just tired of feeling this way, tired of being alone even when I'm surrounded by people, tired of missing out on whatever else is out there to learn and explore and experience. I want to smile again, and not like the cat or the hyena, but like the boy holding the balloon and eating the ice-cream and holding his mother's hand as they walk along the river to the ferry. That is what I long for. As I blow out the candles on my cake, that is what I wish for.
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As Snoopy in You're A Good Man Charlie Brown (July 2000)
