February 28, 2006
I am looking for a primary relationship. Even more than a romantic relationship, I want a primary relationship. I mean the kind of relationship where I know a certain person is my main person, and I am their main person. I don’t think that on an unconscious level I’ve cared if that is a best friend, a lover, or a mother.
I think the main appealing thing about a marriage to me is that it is the one socially sanctioned and publicly celebrated primary relationship. I don’t think that I have ever had a relationship where I was the primary person in someone’s life who was also the primary person in my life. Even though it is customary for that relationship to be marriage, I don’t think I really care how that relationship looks as long as I have it. Although rolling lover, father of my children, life partner, and primary relationship all in one person does seem to be convenient.
Do you have a primary relationship in your life?
Is that kind of relationship even important to you?
Who is it? Is it your best friend? Spouse?
Is it God?
Are you the primary person for them as well?
How do you deal with not having a primary relationship, or, if you have one, is it all it’s cracked up to be?
February 26, 2006
[First paragraph of post just deleted. Grumble grumble. Have to write it again. Grumble grumble.]
Well, as I was saying, ’twas late at night/early in the morning, and I was watching Roseanne on Nick at night. It was the one where they win a bunch of money, so I switched the channel pretty quickly, plus they had the new Becky (hey, is the new Becky that actress on Scrubs?) but not before I heard Leon toast the couple thusly: “If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.”
I have never heard that quote before and then I go to the Quotations Page (a story for another day) and it is one of the quotations of the day! What do you think about that? Just coincidence, or is someone trying to tell me that I am destined to be rich no matter how far I take this eat-whatever-I-want-to and watch-lots-of-TV thing?
February 25, 2006
Last night I saw Sarah Jessica Parker say, “I am the definition of contentment.” Yay Sarah! I’m so glad for her.
February 19, 2006
Yay! I have another number one search term, it is “yes please” on yahoo search. That used to be the name of my blog. The person who clicked through must have been so confused. I wonder what they were searching for?
Ok, I just had to check “Braidwood” is number one on yahoo search too! Yay Yahoo!
(Jo, I know that I was number one for that search term from clicking through to the search page. It showed up in my statistics on statcounter. You can use it for free. It’s fun, but can be addictive.)
February 19, 2006
Do you ever just feel so much compassion for people and our plight as humans? Me too. It’s a good thing we have movies to distract us! And TV, lots of TV! I’m writing tongue in cheek, but also being serious. So many people, (including me!) do things that I don’t approve of, like spend hours watching TV, but sometimes I just look at all of us and think, “whatever gets you through the night.” All I ask is that you take the Buddhist and medical oath approach and first do no harm. At their best, movies can serve as modern day sit-around-the-campfire stories that make life less raw and a little less scary by giving us all a pattern to observe and a connection to each other.
Some movies I might want to see
- Isn’t this a Time?
- Tristram Shandy: A Cock & Bull Story (R)
- Bubble (R)
- Cape of Good Hope (PG-13)
- Christmas in the Clouds (PG)
- Eight Below (PG)
- The Family Stone (PG-13)
- Last Holiday (PG-13)
- Munich (R)
- The New World (PG-13)
- The Producers
Movies I certainly want to see
Movies I have seen
This year I most highly recommend Brokeback Mountain. Please see it and be amazed at the universality of love.
February 15, 2006
There’s a rumor of rain in the air
The trees are whispering loudly to each other about the coming news high above the street lamps
The wind is reminding this tame land
That it has wild cousins
And long ago came from the same wild stock
While the people are sleeping, or go about their business inside
Unaware, like middle aged folk,
The houses want to lean forward, like old people with a silent, expectant twinkle in their eyes.
It’s a quiet night, but the windchimes hint at magic
Once there was a girl with no mother, who was born out of her father’s head.
She was intimate with the play of air across her cheeks
And though she was kept
And had the trappings of civility
Storms called her outside.
She raised her face to the sky
She flung her arms out feeling the wind
She held her body still, mouth open, eyes wide, breathing
Called, she would slip from her house in the night without a thought
She knows what it feels like to run in the dark, arms out wide flying through the air
barefeet slapping on the sidewalk.
A woman steps out of her car surprised
Something in the air reminds her of something long ago
She pauses, one half of her face tilted toward the sky, straining to hear.
February 14, 2006
“sebastien wart on rate my teacher”
February 13, 2006
Wouldn’t it be awful to have a “dead friend” meme? But I have been inspired again by Laura, and I can’t help it. Now I want to write about all my deaths. Maybe it will quiet some of the winds of sorrow and grief that sometimes blow across my chest.
Adam, what first memories do I have that aren’t the pictures? The first picture, does it count? Is the picture of our moms face down at the beach. Only their beautiful young bodies were showing, while their large pregnant bellies were hidden in turtle holes in the sand. The story goes that my mom came to visit Sharon after having me, and Adam, who should have been born first, decided that he wanted to come out into the world too. Our moms met in a pre-natal class and he was born exactly two weeks after me. We both came into the world in beautiful mountain country, and then my mom moved, and a few cute baby pictures could have been the end of the story, but they aren’t.
Adam, carried along as babies are by fate (ie their parents), moved several states away from where he was born to the state I was being raised in. There we were, two toddlers separated at birth, together again. Again, the pictures. His wide smiling face and my thin concerned face. We sit at the beach together, two fat lumps of bundled babies. Our moms take turns sitting with us on Sharon’s front porch. We eat popsicles. We clumsily lean our faces together in a baby kiss in front of one of our birthday cakes. We take baths together. (This is what our mothers gleefully tell us when we are older.)
The first real memory? I remember being in the kitchen with him in their house when we are about 6. I remember assuming that we would one day marry when he became taller than me. He was so cute and all the girls had crushes on him, as his mother proudly told me and he smilingly and with a shrug admitted. I was amazed by his Star Wars collection of toys. He was an only child and was given heaps of toys. Although some of my memories are hazy, I vividly remember his star wars action figures and most of all his Star Wars ships. Those were so cool. The rule was, he could have as many toys as he wanted as long as he didn’t break them and took very good care of them. He told me this seriously and I was awed by the concept and by his parent’s seriousness about his toys.
My favorite pictures of Adam and I are of us dancing at my mom’s second wedding. We are two years old. His face has his usual baby expression, a happy-go-lucky dimple faced, wide cheeked good natured smile. He is wearing a green checkered jacket. I am wearing a long red velvet dress with a white lace pinafore over it. We are holding hands and the bottom of my dress is swirling out around me. My face is turned up and the expression on my face is one of pure joyful delight. Grown-up’s legs mix with darkness and lights in the blur behind us.
February 12, 2006
Community with the real ability to be me
Come together on a Sunday morning.
I avoid God
But find human love
And find it is vast and warm
Like the sun on a lazy sailing on the ocean day
We shall overcome
Sing it sister.
And I sigh and roll my eyes at all the meetings I chair and co-chair.
I am realizing the grown up blessing of contribution and giving to something larger than myself
The Dhali Lama was right after all
And I’m proud that here I am
I made this choice
Another sign of age
When my life is more about what I’ve decided than the hand of cards I was dealt
I saw what I made and it was good.
Feeling my feet on the ground. I made this. I choose this.
And the earth is finally round and small enough for me to see my way clear
To take my next step
The crest of the horizon just visible ahead.
My feet are strong and sure even when the wind of disappointment and sadness blow across my heart.
I come home energized and tired
A day full of letting myself feel and be real,
We gave money to the people of New Orleans today
I honor our open minds, loving hearts, welcoming hands
And my willing
February 10, 2006
I could do a whole post on teeth. For now, here is a story about getting dental work done in Mexico. I went to Tijuana for dental work once. I’ll tell you about it in my more extensive post on teeth.
In the United States, major dental work can be financially ruinous. Without belaboring the lively political topic of why this is, I am here to report that it is possible for a US resident to save 75% or more on major dental work by the simple expedient of having it done in Mexico.