last bits of May


I'm writing this 41 minutes into the first of June. I'm fresh out of a shower, post-basketball pickup games and a super veggie burrito, after watching two episodes of "Chopped" and a day that began with an early wakeup from my nephew (I stayed at my sister's last night), during which I explained to him that I wasn't quite verbal enough to read him the rest of the Curious George book we'd started last night and he said, "Can I lie with you then" and snuggled right into the couch with me before he had to get dressed for school.



It's been a busy couple of weeks - the trip down to LA, of course, houseguests and other out-of-town visitors, a garage sale to begin the process of getting rid of extraneous items before I make the big move down south, a pair of hummingbird henna tattoos, a trip to the gymnastics gym to see Eli and Teia run around like happy bunnies, a fantastic new pair of orange shoes (courtesy of my sister), an impromptu diorama night, an afternoon dance party that got broken up by a downpour, bubbles on the front stoop, Teia's othewordly blue eyes and the million faces she can make within a 5-minute span, the view from Twin Peaks, a short haircut for Sherry on my back deck, wrapping up two online writing classes, and a vigorous use of the Hipstamatic application on my phone.


I suspect this coming month will go by quickly, and though there's a part of me that wants to hold on, slow down time, keep still, make it all last as long as possible, I feel this momentum already, the ship of me changing course, beginning to point itself in a new direction. And this is all a good thing, I can feel it. I am noticing the utter lack of resistance I'm carrying about it, which makes me believe in its benevolence, and also in its inevitability. I've been holding this thought for the past week that things will keep making more sense the more I move forward into the uncertainty.


It's in the same family of thoughts I've been having about my identity. I feel sometimes like I'm not living the biggest life I can imagine for myself, that I'm not quite there yet, even though I'm not sure what that "there" really looks like. I guess it has something to do with a sense of expansion and possiblity, of truly inhabiting my fullest potential, spreading my wings as wide as they can go.


It's a strange sort of animal, this thought, because what it does is not account for who I presently am. In fact, it detracts from the life I HAVE created for myself, the accomplishments that I can be proud of, the ways in which my skills are being used in good ways, the feeling of fulfillment I've gotten from this online teaching, for example, the incredibly powerful experience of working with people and faciliating a better relationship with their creaitivty. This is no small thing, and I forget that when I wrap myself up in the future trip of who I imagine myself becoming, of that "bigger life" I think I could - or should - be leading.


So I've had this thought, that maybe I'm actually living that life already. Maybe I'm already being my big self, doing my big work, spreading my big wings. So I've been telling myself that it's okay to really take in the reality of my present tense, which is that I'm following my instincts as well as I can, and using my skills as best as I can, and that the picture I've had of what's over "there" is actually right here.


There's an enormous peace that comes over me when I give in to this thought. When I can let it hold me. It doesn't mean that things won't continue to change, or that I don't want to keep expanding who I am and what I do, or that there isn't room to grow into another life, too. There is. There most definitely is. But this is about a kind of self-appreciation, self-recognition, self-love. This is about making a deep and honest and unabashed acknoweldgment of personal sufficiency and strength. I am enough. I am doing enough. I will continue being and doing enough. I am where I need to be. And THAT'S the life I'm living. THAT'S the me who's living it.


It must be late. I'm turning philosophical and self-helpy. But no matter. Sleep is just around the corner, and June is already here, and even there's so much more I want to tell you, I know that I'll get to it. I will, in my own way. Because that's the only way I know.