Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Come nearer to me now
Some changes in life are so sacred. Something you want to shout from the tops and only whisper in secret private places. This ring feels as though it's always been here though.
This post is from July of last year, and was never published.
This post is from July of last year, and was never published.
Friday, February 8, 2013
Friday, November 23, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
A stasis
I'm obsessed with that quote from Anais Nin. I believe it. It illustrates what I feel I've been discovering over the last year while working on creating a change in myself.
We, as humans, are not linear. Our existence is spherical and not a fixed, perfect sphere. We undulate, dilate, we have tides. The word globular is better; to describe a globe, like our world, a globe. But it's also just a globby shape, imperfect and nondescript, a glob.
I'm glad that I am consistently incorrect in predicting my future. I do not have the ability to know what forces of my life are pushing, pulling or holding me in what direction.
I think a stasis is a form of stability. Confidence in a relationship. What a relief.
Anais Nin
We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
Monday, May 21, 2012
I swing back
You would pick me up in half an hour, I'd spend the time brushing my teeth and making myself look cute but like I didn't try to look cute at all.
You wouldn't even have to turn off the engine, I'd be waiting on the stoop with the light on and bound to the car and in the seat and next to you and smile as I take your ipod and pick tracks that are for just such an adventure.
We'd drive, probably not talking much, maybe say "I think there's a park up this way," "This song makes me feel like summer all year long." The windows would be down a little ways, I can't tell if it's cold outside or if I'm tired or if the bumps that make the hair on my arm stand up are because I haven't touched you yet.
I shake my shoulders and put my fingers between my knees.
You lean towards the wheel.
As we come to a stop, next to a grassy field, a city down below, the stars up above. Both lights are just what I need. You reach for my hand as we run through the dewy grass. I didn't know the dew settled this early. I didn't know that running would warm me so much.
Unlocking our hands we claim our swings. The chains are cold, the plastic is wet. I pump my legs and the night air chills my cheeks. I can see my breath leave a trail as I swing back. Two sets of chains make quiet wrenching whispers. You went higher and jumped.
I keep pumping. Til I can jump over this city.
You wouldn't even have to turn off the engine, I'd be waiting on the stoop with the light on and bound to the car and in the seat and next to you and smile as I take your ipod and pick tracks that are for just such an adventure.
We'd drive, probably not talking much, maybe say "I think there's a park up this way," "This song makes me feel like summer all year long." The windows would be down a little ways, I can't tell if it's cold outside or if I'm tired or if the bumps that make the hair on my arm stand up are because I haven't touched you yet.
I shake my shoulders and put my fingers between my knees.
You lean towards the wheel.
As we come to a stop, next to a grassy field, a city down below, the stars up above. Both lights are just what I need. You reach for my hand as we run through the dewy grass. I didn't know the dew settled this early. I didn't know that running would warm me so much.
Unlocking our hands we claim our swings. The chains are cold, the plastic is wet. I pump my legs and the night air chills my cheeks. I can see my breath leave a trail as I swing back. Two sets of chains make quiet wrenching whispers. You went higher and jumped.
I keep pumping. Til I can jump over this city.
Things I'm not ready for you to know
I'm hung up on you
You've given me a brand new heart, one that has no memory of past tears
I'm holding back so much and it feels like it's slipping through my fingers and I don't mind that loosening grip
You've given me a brand new heart, one that has no memory of past tears
I'm holding back so much and it feels like it's slipping through my fingers and I don't mind that loosening grip
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
tomorrow
tomorrow is only in your head.
it is a figment
of imagination
by the time it comes
it is today
and there remains
a tomorrow
to look towards.
it is a figment
of imagination
by the time it comes
it is today
and there remains
a tomorrow
to look towards.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Noah Untitled
I didn't notice I was staring until I noticed you were staring too.
I told you about the secret places in my heart with traces of your palm, you told me about summers in Georgia by pulling me in.
Your hands and arms pulling me close, ligaments holding bones and joints in place, something so close moving together. Our bones will never move so smoothly.
There was something desperate, that clutch will not leave my mind. Like a child holding tightly to a favorite toy, a hold that was unrelenting through hours, through sleeping, through snoring. In your dense embrace I felt I could keep away the bad dreams, the troubles that may have crossed your face. If it went on our permeable surfaces would have dissolved into each other absorbed into the couch through to the floor and the dark basement into the rock and earth.
You whispered plans for when you returned home with kisses, my sigh told you where I wanted to be a year from now.
In a cool morning light I watched your jaw and played with your hair, and smiled when you twitched and pulled me even nearer.
The two syllables I know to call you fill my mouth like a gulp of water. Summer must be coming.
I told you about the secret places in my heart with traces of your palm, you told me about summers in Georgia by pulling me in.
Your hands and arms pulling me close, ligaments holding bones and joints in place, something so close moving together. Our bones will never move so smoothly.
There was something desperate, that clutch will not leave my mind. Like a child holding tightly to a favorite toy, a hold that was unrelenting through hours, through sleeping, through snoring. In your dense embrace I felt I could keep away the bad dreams, the troubles that may have crossed your face. If it went on our permeable surfaces would have dissolved into each other absorbed into the couch through to the floor and the dark basement into the rock and earth.
You whispered plans for when you returned home with kisses, my sigh told you where I wanted to be a year from now.
In a cool morning light I watched your jaw and played with your hair, and smiled when you twitched and pulled me even nearer.
The two syllables I know to call you fill my mouth like a gulp of water. Summer must be coming.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Fortune
I am not a superstitious person. I love to open umbrellas in stores and walk around for awhile. Ladders always made the best forts to hide beneath. I roll my eyes at 11:11 because I know someone out there is saying "It's 11:11! Make a wish!"
Can we just stop and look at that? It's 11:11 twice a day, EVERY day. So... it's lucky. Seriously, this bothers me.
However, I do love Chinese food, and I hoard slips of paper that come in cookies like they are tokens. They can see so easily through me, and they can whisper things that no one else could possibly know. The other day I found a handful that has been floating around in a box for the last few months.
"What you see in the mirror, and what you are can be two different images."
"An admirer finds you charming"
"Your character can be described as natural and unrestrained."
"You will continue to take chances and be glad you did"
"This is a prosperous time of life for you"
Can we just stop and look at that? It's 11:11 twice a day, EVERY day. So... it's lucky. Seriously, this bothers me.
However, I do love Chinese food, and I hoard slips of paper that come in cookies like they are tokens. They can see so easily through me, and they can whisper things that no one else could possibly know. The other day I found a handful that has been floating around in a box for the last few months.
"What you see in the mirror, and what you are can be two different images."
"An admirer finds you charming"
"Your character can be described as natural and unrestrained."
"You will continue to take chances and be glad you did"
"This is a prosperous time of life for you"
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
You were on my mind
Your skin and my skin were the same
You filled my heart until it was easier to feel yours beat than it was to hear my own
I thought you had opened the door to my soul and taken a sledge hammer to morality, safety, sanity and bravery.
But that door does not exist.
You can not penetrate something that does not belong in this world.
And here I sit, like I always have, in a room with no door
Becoming acquainted with the treasures laid up
Your skin and my skin were the same
You filled my heart until it was easier to feel yours beat than it was to hear my own
I thought you had opened the door to my soul and taken a sledge hammer to morality, safety, sanity and bravery.
But that door does not exist.
You can not penetrate something that does not belong in this world.
And here I sit, like I always have, in a room with no door
Becoming acquainted with the treasures laid up
It's coming out hard, and it's coming out slow, but it's coming out nonetheles
If I could write you a letter today...
Dear -----,
If I would write this letter to you today, I would tell you how I made myself sick thinking about you this week. That every couple I saw was you with her. That every familiar tree, building, person, sight, sound, smell, asked about you.
I would write to tell you that everyday I remember your flecked eyes, each and every laugh that you brought out of me and each one that you gave back to me. I would tell you that I remember your touch, and the way you stood in front of me in my eyes. And the way you could be impatient.
I would write that I am strong. I have accomplished more than I thought I could. I wouldn't tell you this to prove anything. It just is. I would write that I am so much better and stronger in myself than I had been. I would tell you about the trains, the graveyards, the music, the people I have encountered.
If I would write a letter to you today, I would say that I hope you are happy. I would say that I am not over you. That I am over you. That you are not now what I was in love with then -- and that is okay. That I found that I deserve more, that I have more to offer now.
One day my insides won't be tied up. Maybe that'll be after you marry your girl. After I have my first child. Maybe I will send you a picture of my family dressed up for Abraham Lincoln's birthday in a few years, and you'll send one of your own back.
Maybe one day I won't hope that you'll read this, that you won't be with your girl anymore. That you'll have regret, and feel an eighth of what I have felt over you. I would leave a few things out. Like perhaps I should have done all along.
If I would write this letter today, I would sign,
with regards,
-------
Dear -----,
If I would write this letter to you today, I would tell you how I made myself sick thinking about you this week. That every couple I saw was you with her. That every familiar tree, building, person, sight, sound, smell, asked about you.
I would write to tell you that everyday I remember your flecked eyes, each and every laugh that you brought out of me and each one that you gave back to me. I would tell you that I remember your touch, and the way you stood in front of me in my eyes. And the way you could be impatient.
I would write that I am strong. I have accomplished more than I thought I could. I wouldn't tell you this to prove anything. It just is. I would write that I am so much better and stronger in myself than I had been. I would tell you about the trains, the graveyards, the music, the people I have encountered.
If I would write a letter to you today, I would say that I hope you are happy. I would say
One day my insides won't be tied up. Maybe that'll be after you marry your girl. After I have my first child. Maybe I will send you a picture of my family dressed up for Abraham Lincoln's birthday in a few years, and you'll send one of your own back.
Maybe one day I won't hope that you'll read this, that you won't be with your girl anymore. That you'll have regret, and feel an eighth of what I have felt over you. I would leave a few things out. Like perhaps I should have done all along.
If I would write this letter today, I would sign,
with regards,
-------
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
I am lucky
you are
hold on to that
record it
take pictures of it
write about it
so that you remember this
because it'll serve as a token for when things are hard that the good times do happen and that they'll visit again
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Object Lesson...
Which I LOVED.
And looked dang good on me. It also helped that I wasn't eating real food and running almost every day for that endorphin-high, so my features were particularly gaunt (for me) (also please note sarcasm, these habits are not healthy nor endorsed).
Anyhow, rough times aside, I've been trying to grow out my hair since that last chop in May, and this picture shows (in shadow, I know) exactly how far that's gotten me.
The problem with some change, is it takes a-w-h-i-l-e for the result to manifest itself. Being patient through this waiting period can take a lot out of a person, it can cause them to look back, see what they could have with a few snips of the scissors and think, "Hey, maybe that wasn't so bad."
It can cause a person to look forward and get anxious for what is to come, thus forgetting to enjoy the fun things that can be done NOW... with their hair that is. Sometimes, it feels as though there is no change, when progress is coming steadily all along, centimeter by centimeter, but it does come, so in the meantime, enjoy the growth.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Heart Over Chemicals
Highly Recommend this post from Hello Giggles
by Sarah May Bates
Sometimes your brain ain’t your best friend. Self-discipline is really friggin’ hard. Especially when your brain chemicals are gushing full-force telling you to do something that you feel as though you cannot stop doing. I think a sign of strength and maturity is the ability to stop yourself when you feel the most like you cannot. Sometimes this test happens when we are in a lot of pain that we desperately want to get out of, and sometimes it’s simply when we are in the heat of passion or we really want that glazed donut. The secret to everything you wish you could do, or could make yourself do, lies in how you behave in those moments. Do you decide you are powerless or do you decide you are not? Well, the secret to changing a long set trait is being successful just once. Walking the other way, pulling the emergency chord. Listening to a tiny voice inside yourself and changing course when you feel like you can’t.
The enlightenment that I recently had in my own life is this exact realization. People talk about it often and it doesn’t do much to tell another person. “Everything is up to you.” Thanks. Well, I can now see that everything you do is in your power. The key is to get to that realization and be able to access that power when you need it the most. It’s almost like tricking HAL when your whole body is over-ridden. But it’s completely possible, just try as hard as you can to remember to take a new step in the face of this overwhelming chemical urge. You just have to use that emergency chord. Just pull it. Whatever it is – calling a friend, walking the other way, running the other way, having a one-gal dance party. Just remove yourself from that situation and you will slowly regain chemical balance. It actually helps to run or jump or get blood into your brain; maybe hang your head upside down. When my chemicals take over, it’s usually because I want something to medicate myself, or my brain IS medicating myself with endorphins of some kind and they are very overwhelming and or seductive. It’s like we often want to let ourselves be intoxicated, not responsible, not capable. But in the end we really don’t want that for ourselves, we just think we do. It always ends the same way: disappointed regretful “defeat” that was in fact in our power to avoid.
I will summarize my steps again but more simply. When you’re in a place where you’re feeling out of control, listen to that tiny voice that’s screaming in your head to maybe stop and maybe not do this. Then enact your escape plan, no matter how silly and weird it is. Mine is running to downward dog. It’s kind of inconvenient at times, but hey, it works. As my long-time voice of reason put it, “It’s like being in the same room your entire life and realizing there’s been a door behind you the entire time.” Profoundly huge realization.
Stay nice and cozy and hoping you all have a wonderful Sunday.
xoxox Sarah
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Reflections on a concert
Last night I went to my first concert since moving to SLC. This was fantastic for several reasons, 1. I didn't have to pay an additional 20-45 bucks in transportation to get to the venue. Do you know that for the cost it previously took me to get to a concert I could now go to two additional concerts? That. is. AWESOME. 2. I didn't have to wait for friends to be ready to get to the show, I mean, I wanted to go with friends and I did, but I was able to make my own way there, and spend the first few moments enjoying being an adult, in a city, at a concert. On my own. Bonus points. 3. I seriously got way too much real-life applications from this concert. I question my belief that certain things can be life altering, or enlightening, but I had several moments of clarity. Bear with me.
The last few weeks I've been counseled to live in the moment, not to worry about the future when I'm working on enjoying life, and more importantly not to dwell on the past. Be in the moment. I've also read a lot of articles and seen this video, just randomly for work or whatever, about how technology is becoming addicting and keeping us from being in the now. Now I am definitely guilty of using my cell phone as a defense mechanism, "It's okay that I'm here by myself and don't have anyone to talk to, I have someone very important that I'm texting (mom), and no, it's not my mother (yes it is)." But looking around both before the bands began to play and during the performance I was a little stunned at how many people were texting, or checking their phones for messages. The ones who weren't you could tell were into the concert, dancing like crazy, singing loudly to the music, occasionally stomping on my foot, and they were living in the moment, enjoying fact that they were AT a concert. The others, you could barely tell the difference of if they were at a concert, or driving in the car, or on their laptops at home nodding along and occasionally repeating lyrics. No joy.
(Ironically, I just heard my cell phone beep with a text message and had to search it out before continuing.)
One of my favorite songs was played while I had full view of both singers faces, and the foot-stomper seemed to disappear, or lose energy and I was zoned in. It was bliss. A lyric that has always meant something so distinct to me suddenly changed it's entire meaning, "This is what it's like on a fantasy/You put your life on hold as we interest one another." Coming down from my own fantasy has been long and tedious, but down I am coming. This isn't a sad thing, fantasies (in this specific case) keep you from seeing reality, you have a skewed perspective of other people, yourself, and your priorities. Real life has ups and downs that make those ups so much higher in comparison. The next time I'm tempted to jump onto a fantasy, I hope I can remember that real life can be so much more beautiful and lasting and important, and that can turn into something fantastic.
Third, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids? I don't even know. They were playing movies on two screens in the venue that were some of my favorites. ET, The Big Labowski, Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. I forgot how much I love that movie.
Taking a look at the art of change. Not that I have experienced the following at all................ some boyfriends know how to make a damn good mix tape. New songs, new bands, new renditions, perfect hopeful and coupley lyrics.... ahhh you and me. The thing is, once that relationship is over, (again, I can not relate to this at ALL...............) those songs, that have become thereafter your favorite songs are ruined. They bring back broken promises, false hopes, memories, and self-doubts that never belonged there in the first place. So, I'm not sure how I'm going to continue with this, but I'm going to endeavor to make different associations for those favorite songs that have meant so much to me so I may be able to continue to enjoy them and maybe attribute them to something else great in the future. And maybe this is what happens in all break-up situations, new memories, and new experiences take the place of the old, and the old begin to fade in importance.
The last few weeks I've been counseled to live in the moment, not to worry about the future when I'm working on enjoying life, and more importantly not to dwell on the past. Be in the moment. I've also read a lot of articles and seen this video, just randomly for work or whatever, about how technology is becoming addicting and keeping us from being in the now. Now I am definitely guilty of using my cell phone as a defense mechanism, "It's okay that I'm here by myself and don't have anyone to talk to, I have someone very important that I'm texting (mom), and no, it's not my mother (yes it is)." But looking around both before the bands began to play and during the performance I was a little stunned at how many people were texting, or checking their phones for messages. The ones who weren't you could tell were into the concert, dancing like crazy, singing loudly to the music, occasionally stomping on my foot, and they were living in the moment, enjoying fact that they were AT a concert. The others, you could barely tell the difference of if they were at a concert, or driving in the car, or on their laptops at home nodding along and occasionally repeating lyrics. No joy.
(Ironically, I just heard my cell phone beep with a text message and had to search it out before continuing.)
One of my favorite songs was played while I had full view of both singers faces, and the foot-stomper seemed to disappear, or lose energy and I was zoned in. It was bliss. A lyric that has always meant something so distinct to me suddenly changed it's entire meaning, "This is what it's like on a fantasy/You put your life on hold as we interest one another." Coming down from my own fantasy has been long and tedious, but down I am coming. This isn't a sad thing, fantasies (in this specific case) keep you from seeing reality, you have a skewed perspective of other people, yourself, and your priorities. Real life has ups and downs that make those ups so much higher in comparison. The next time I'm tempted to jump onto a fantasy, I hope I can remember that real life can be so much more beautiful and lasting and important, and that can turn into something fantastic.
Third, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids? I don't even know. They were playing movies on two screens in the venue that were some of my favorites. ET, The Big Labowski, Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. I forgot how much I love that movie.
Taking a look at the art of change. Not that I have experienced the following at all................ some boyfriends know how to make a damn good mix tape. New songs, new bands, new renditions, perfect hopeful and coupley lyrics.... ahhh you and me. The thing is, once that relationship is over, (again, I can not relate to this at ALL...............) those songs, that have become thereafter your favorite songs are ruined. They bring back broken promises, false hopes, memories, and self-doubts that never belonged there in the first place. So, I'm not sure how I'm going to continue with this, but I'm going to endeavor to make different associations for those favorite songs that have meant so much to me so I may be able to continue to enjoy them and maybe attribute them to something else great in the future. And maybe this is what happens in all break-up situations, new memories, and new experiences take the place of the old, and the old begin to fade in importance.
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