Hollywood & Sunshine

Those were the days
of Hollywood
and Sunshine
both of us shining stars
glowing brightly
in a different space.

I stumbled by
skinny in my
brown polyester dress
waiting tables
hungry for food
waiting on you
starving for love.

You saved me
so many times
changed my path
taught me how to survive
sharp life turns
then steer straight
and stand strong.

You were the first
to believe
I could run free
and be me.

You never gave
what I never asked
yet you were there
when I needed you most
holding my heart
when you couldn’t
quite capture my hand.

And now here we are
on a path that again
finds your Sunshine
making sharp life turns
trying so hard
to steer straight
and stand strong.

You still find me
beautiful
even though
I am not so skinny now
and many moments
are between what we had
and this crossing.

I tell you I am rarely
hungry for food,
but you cannot miss
that perhaps I am
still a bit starving for love.

You catch
in my breath
that I’m stumbling hard
and I apologize
for my fall.

How did you know that
I ached for you
to come from your space
to this crossroads
because my star
was struggling to shine?

And now here you are
holding my heart
and for just this moment
my hand
saving me,
stumbling
from falling again.

I will still never ask
what you cannot give
But today,
like those days
you’re my Hollywood man.

~ Sunshine 2011.09.10

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Taker

You go deeper than the heart
greedy taker-soul
using Your love,
like a shiny, sparkling hook
fishing for another to feed
Your raisin-shriveled heart.

You say, “Pet Me,
give to Me,
look what I have
home, car, money,
manners, dress, form.
look who I am.
these glossy things give Me
rights to refuse you respect.”

jagged razor-sharp hook
tearing into my soft, meaty heart
til it drips life blood
in hot tears down my cheeks.
little rips, small enough not to alarm
at each separate tear,
but slowly bleeding me dry,
killing my spirit.
You do this just-in-case
i might ever cut at You.

when i notice the blood
You quickly wipe it,
pat it dry,
and sweetly smile,
so my heart thinks
“ah, the saving hero”
and forgets it was You
who made me bleed.

But one day I wake
like a tortured camp refugee
scarred, weak and breathless,
to find I can barely,
but I must,
crawl away to survive.

~ cj 1996.05.21

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My Heart (felt) Manifesto

I am your heart, and I love you dearly. You can feel me in your chest nearly all the time. I beat like crazy when you run. I know I wake you with panic often in the night. I soar and race when you get excited, and I roar in your ears and melt in your chest when I love, and I am open to love.

I’ve been broken more times than you can likely bear to recall. And each time it happens, even more now, I burn you like acid from your ears to your knees. When I’m damaged, I grip your whole body so tightly, I squeeze the air out in gulps from your lungs, and force tears to pour from your eyes.

I’ve been broken so many times just this year….may I admit? I’ve begun to wonder if I can take breaking much more.

The moment I wonder this, I rise up on behalf of myself. I insist, right through my pain, that I will be okay. I promise I am getting stronger, and sometimes pain is the only path there. I am learning, I cry. I am feeling, alive. I implore you to be patient, to breathe and give me space for my growth. I am not trying to hurt you. I am trying to be larger than life. I want to stand tall, so the gift of your love can matter in the way you tell me you want it to.

I remind you strongly, and get every fiber in your body to agree that I have loved fully and completely many times. I know how to do this well. You know I do. And if you allow me to grow stronger and wiser, my ability to love and receive love will grow, too.

I beg you to believe, in between beatings that I know leave you wailing on the kitchen floor at midnight, that the privilege of giving and receiving love is worth every tear of heartbreak you pay, even in those moments of darkness when you can’t find the light.

You know, I see that you know…..that if I love, and you lose, if you can’t let me learn, if you won’t allow me to love again, if you pull back, I will no longer be broken.

That is true. I will not be broken; I will be destroyed. And because I am all that keeps you alive, you will die, too.

I dare to whisper to you, please remember that each of us is a gift, including you. And if you don’t leave me open, I cannot help you give your gifts. I offer that just maybe, if you keep the door open to the pain we are in, you can help others, which is yours and my wholehearted desire. It is not easy, I know, to let others witness your raw, naked shame. But do you not see, I ask you softly, that you are helping another bear their own heart’s beating pain when you do?

And more assuredly I promise, if you leave me open for that one special heart, I will reach out, I will heal and uphold another with all the beauty I can possibly offer.

I know I cannot always control if I hurt you. I cannot always know what will be my gift or your gift to another heart. And I know I am not always able to choose the right heart. Sometimes I have given you to a heart who does not keep you safe from harm. But I swear each time I am hurt and you ache, I am committed to learning and growing for you.

You cannot allow another person whose heart is also in pain, to destroy me. You cannot resist loving all in when you see another doing the same. I am the life force that moves your blood through your body, and you must see that you need me.

So I beg of you, while I’m growing, even though I know I have buckled your knees, please don’t close the door on me. Do not shrivel in and shut down. Please find a way to open up and I know other hearts will hold you close.

You and I have been through fire and now here we are. I know you’re in pain, and I ache knowing I am the cause. But please don’t leave me. Because I am your heart, and I love you dearly.

~ cj 2011.09.08

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Everywhere I Go

Everywhere I go,
I go with my whole heart.

It always lets me know
it’s right by my side.

Sometimes it screams
when I’ve burned it raw
And other times
it makes me fly.

But scream or soar,
I will never leave it behind.

I am so glad to know
I have one
and I am so glad to feel
it always here
right by my side
willing to go

Everywhere I go.

~ cj 2011.09.08

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Thistle And Weeds

This simple, powerful melody, the intense, spot-on message held my battered heart in a special place these past few days, so it could safely feel, and begin to heal.

I played it over and over, and then taught myself an accompanying piano part. When I began to experience it, not just listen, it opened a door in me and gave me an understanding I’d overlooked before.

Thank you forever, Mumford, for sharing this with all of us.

Spare me your judgments
And spare me your dreams
Cuz recently mine
have been tearing my seams
I sit alone in this winter
Clarity which clouds my mind.

Alone in the wind
and the rain you left me
It’s getting dark darling
Too dark to see
I’m on my knees
and your faith is in shreds it seems.

Corrupted by the simple sniff
of riches blown
I know you’ve felt much more love
than you’ve shown
And I’m on my knees
and the water creeps to my chest

Plant your hope
with good seeds
Don’t cover yourself with
Thistle and Weeds
Rain down
Rain down on me

Look over your hills
and be still
The sky above us
Shoots to kill

Rain down
Rain down on me

And I will hold on
I will hold on
Hold

Oh, I will hold on
I will hold on
Hold

Oh, I will hold on
I will hold on
Hold

And I will hold on
I will hold on
Hold

I will hold on
I will hold on

I begged you to hear me
There’s more than flesh and bones
But the dead bury their dead
And they will come out in droves
Take the spade from my hands
And fill in the holes that you’ve made

Plant your hope
with good seeds
Don’t cover yourself
with Thistle and Weeds
Rain down
Rain down on me.

~ Mumford and Sons – Thistle and Weeds.

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I Am Ok

I am ok.
I don’t care.
I don’t need you.
You don’t matter.

Until I wake.
Or I sleep.

Or I remember
or I think.

Until I see
in my mind’s eye
your eyes looking
into mine.

Until I go
where we’ve been
in my heart
or in my world.

Until I touch
anything
that’s been touched
by you…

…including me.

~ cj 2011.01.21

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Begging The Universe

I woke this morning,
begging the universe to erase
this truth from my
now open eyes,
so the stone heavy ache
in my heart would be lifted
as I struggle to breathe.

I was denied that relief,
and shown two paths instead,
because the universe knows better than I
what I need to see.

Another crossroads,
my soul sighed in anguish,
when my life is already
brim-full of life altering choices.

Do I move on the path
of a new journey
alone without you?
Do I take the lessons
and gifts I’ve received,
no matter how hard
came the learning,
and let them guide and uphold me
alone?

Or do I stay on this ride,
which, as it turns out,
you weren’t both feet on,
hoping you’ll join me fully.
That ride had so many
beautiful possibilities
you and I may not find
with another.

I am trying to resist a path chosen
based on roughness ahead.
I am hoping, too
that I have enough grace remaining
to allow space
for your own heart’s decision
to get on or get off.

Regardless my crossroad choice,
it will not be meanwhile easy.
I am not sure I want to go without you.
I am not sure I can hang on.
I am only sure of one thing;
I will no longer hang onto our ride alone.

Now I wake to me
begging the universe instead
to help me see the journey’s end
so I choose from crossroads
based not on where the stones lie now
but on where I want to be
breathing ache-free again.

~ cj 2011.09.02

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Digging Out Of A Ditch

When I was a teenager, I was in a band. One day, another band came in on their day off, and heard us play. The band members said “Hey, if you ever wanna move to Florida, you could join our band!” Of course, I took this as a serious invitation instead of the casual compliment it really was.

So a few months later, sick of the cold and the boarding room floor I was living on, I packed a few boxes and a few suitcases. I got on a greyhound bus, and got off in Kissimmee, Florida.

It took hours for the guy I knew in the band to bother picking me up at the bus station. I’ve always believed that if I was then who I am now, I would have left the station, and I would have left him wondering. But today, it is I who is wondering…would I?

Eventually he picked me up. We lived with his parents at the end of a dirt road in an orange grove. And nearly immediately, I got in a relationship with him.

I didn’t have money; he kept everything that I had. I was young, and I was afraid to object.

He was a bit controlling. He wanted to tame me. He liked attention I got and wanted to own me, and I believed this to be love. I saw how the other girls wanted him, and perhaps a part of me wanted to own him, too.

One night, when he was gone, I got in our closet to get something from my suitcase. I saw my mom’s handwriting. What? I hadn’t heard from my mom in months, and thought she was mad because I had moved. He’d told me it was $5 a minute to call home collect, and I didn’t have a way to pay for that, so I hadn’t called home.

I pulled the first letter out of the envelope that was already opened, and read my mom begging me to write her back because she had terminal cancer. How could I be so cruel?

How could HE be so cruel.

There were other letters from her, along with letters in someone else’s handwriting that I didn’t recognize. Those other letters were to him. My respect of privacy evaporated, and I pulled out one of the letters to him. In it, the girl was telling him how much she loved when he said a particular sweet phrase.

It was a phrase he’d said often to me, something I’d held as uniquely our own. I read more letters from my mom, and from her.

I had nowhere to go, but I had my boundaries from years of standing up for myself. I was so grateful for them. I packed my suitcases, I packed my boxes, and for well over an hour, I dragged them one at a time down that dirt road.

I got to the highway…2 lanes each way with a median between. It was dark, I was afraid, I was so devastated. I had no money, and the ditch was deep. I got my boxes and bags across the first 2 lanes, and I just couldn’t do anymore.

I laid down in the ditch, and I went to sleep.

In the morning, I remembered there was a trailer park on that dirt road. If I’d had any kind of sense the night before, perhaps I would have sought refuge there. Or perhaps I was afraid he would find me if I had.

In the light of the day, I went back down that road and found the community center. I found an ad on the board looking for a live in sitter, and begged the woman to give me the job. We went back to the ditch and got the rest of my things, and I moved in.

I didn’t have a car, so he couldn’t find me. I contacted his brother, who I knew didn’t like what was going on, and begged him for help getting on my feet.

He got me a job at Disney, and he never told his brother where I was. There is so very much more to this story. It turns out he found me eventually, and worked hard to get me back. It turns out I was pregnant. It turns out that I was also very sick. It turns out my mom died. It turns out I lost everything that I owned.

And as it also turns out now, I’ve found myself again in a ditch because of a man telling me what he was telling another.

I am not starting to dig my way out from a real ditch anymore; I have come so far from that. But that ditch I am finding my heart in now, is far deeper than any ditch I was ever in with that boy so long ago.

I only hope I will in this case, as I did last time, faithfully honor my boundaries, and be strong enough to dig my heart and my life out of it.

~ cj 2011.09.02

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No Dark Storms

If you will but visit
when you are wind-battered
you will find me here
ready to hold you
when you are too weary
to hold your own.

I will not clip your wings
for my own gain.
Instead, my belief in you
will support your
love of flight.
You will own your true sky
with me as your companion.

I will not hold you under,
steal your breath
trying to drown you.
Instead, I will build you a boat
so you can skim high over
dangerous seas
with a sail, full and tall.

I will not hide in the woods
and lay a trap for your heart.
Instead, if I know the way
you will find me a ready guide
with a hand strong and sure
through any forest of shadows
that darkens your path.

Nor will I leave you to parch
in the harsh sun of critique.
Instead, I will build you a lodging
to keep you cool from the heat
so no elements of hate
can harass your beautiful heart.

My love, if you will allow,
I will be your island.
Soft clouds, warm air
will be yours.
Safe refuge, and
a welcome harbor
are in my heart waiting.

There will be
no dark storms here.

~ cj 2011.08.31

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My Need

My desire to be heard
does not exceed my need
to be treated with
compassion
in the face of
my vulnerability.

My willingness to accept your help
does not exceed my need
to be treated with
grace
in the face of
my weakness.

My wish for reassurance
does not exceed my need
to sense your words
are filled with
understanding.

My plea for forgiveness
does not exceed my need
to find mercy
as you release my failure
from your grudge.

My longing to share my life
does not exceed my need
to know you feel
empathy
for my struggles.

In my past life
I believed I would find love
if I walked my path
with openness and trust
even in the obvious absence of
being treated with
the most basic
care.

But this is my new life
And I will not allow my
vulnerability,
weaknesses,
and longing,
nor my needs for
reassurance
and forgiveness,
to be exceeded by my need
to be treated with
care.

What I now know
is when I find
compassion,
grace,
mercy,
understanding
and empathy,
I’ve found
what I truly seek,
what I need;
love.

~ cj 2011.08.29

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I Love You Doesn’t Mean Anything

I Love You doesn’t mean anything…When you say it all the time….

I had a brilliant conversation this past week with a life coach and friend of mine, Lisa.

I’ve been thinking for days about the many things we discussed.  I started having the insight breakthroughs while were still on the phone, and they haven’t stopped!

I hope you have conversations like this in your life!  When I talk to her, it’s always meaningful. Sometimes I have those OMG moments RIGHT while I’m on the phone. Sometimes, they happen later. ALWAYS they happen!

I’ll probably post about some other insights from our conversation, but this particular topic has been in the front seat of my mind, so it’s getting OUT. Maybe it will make you think like it did me…

Amongst all the other things we were talking about, we mentioned the languages of love, and talked a bit about how people express themselves.  We didn’t talk about what they each were, and I’m not sure I remember, but I’ll give it a try…

Let’s see (without research)

  • Verbal
  • Physical
  • Acts of Service
  • Gifts
  • Affirmations

Did I get them?  I’m going to resist looking them up.

I express myself using various levels of each of these.  My strongest ones, though, by far, are verbal displays of affection (which I think of as “I” or “my” statements – I love, I like), personal affirmations (You have, You do), and physical affection (I don’t need parentheses to explain this one 🙂 ).

So…the big ah-ha…was about one of them: Verbal displays of affection.  I regularly say “I Love You”, “I Like You”, “You are my favorite ____”.  And I will admit…I struggle with insecurity in situations when that’s not reciprocated in my core personal relationships.

The ah-ha came when I expressed how I was used to hearing “I Love You” in every partnership relationship I’ve been in to date.  I was expressing how that made me feel secure and treasured, and how insecure I felt when it was absent….(This wasn’t your average “how’s the weather conversation” my friend and I had. 🙂  I realize why it makes me feel insecure as well, which is valuable to discover about yourself…anyway…

Out of Lisa’s mouth came

“I Love You doesn’t really mean anything when someone says it all the time.”

WHAT?

Wait.

Oh, MY, she’s TOTALLY RIGHT!  Ooo, I didn’t want to HEAR that!  How was I going to feel SECURE if I didn’t have that ringing in my ear at the end of every call, or returned every time I felt compelled to say it?!

But then I started to think about this and talk to her about it some more….

I left my 21-year long marriage after I felt like it had irreparably fallen apart, but check this out….Every time we hung up the phone for nearly 21 years, we’d said “I Love You” to each other!!

Here’s how much *I* meant it…can I admit?  When I was on the phone with him, because I was so unhappy at the end of our relationship, you would have not-infrequently witnessed my middle finger highly visible on my end of the line at the exact same moment I was saying “I Love You”.  (Good thing we didn’t have Face Chat on our iPhones!)

Here’s how much *he* meant it, if I may be so bold as to speak for him….For the past several years I’ve been trying to express this in various ways: “You say you love me, but I don’t FEEL like you do.”  After I asked for a divorce, we had a conversation where I  inquired what he’d really been feeling…and he admitted he actually HADN’T been feeling “I Love You” anymore.

Ahhhh…I Was Right, but I Was Right isn’t fun to snuggle with on that one.

So, as it turns out, the words, I Love You repeated often, weren’t worth a damn thing.  In fact, I suspect they contributed to the frustration of the situation because they were being uttered dishonestly.  I wonder now what would have happened if there had been more honesty between us.  But that’s another post.

When I think back to other relationships…wait, I’m not in those anymore either.  And may I add? I feel like “I Love You” doesn’t usually mean anything when someone says it right away either.  I’ve noticed that most of the time how short the relationship is going to be, is almost in direct proportion to how fast someone says “I Love You”.  I even wrote a poem sort of about this.  http://budurl.com/cjdrawn

Mind you, I’m not saying “I Love You” has to mean “I Will Love You Forever”.  We can’t promise we’ll feel some way in the future.  What I AM saying is that, at least in my marriage, there were likely plenty of times where I Love You was being said, and wasn’t even really thought about, and possibly not even meant.

What happens with you’re with someone who doesn’t say it?  I suppose you could ask them to say “I Love You” more often.  But isn’t that all about you?  It has nothing to do with them, and asking another to change can be a slippery slope.  What about changing you?

What if you could put your insecurities aside and try to look at this another way.

When you’re with someone who DOESN’T so easily say I Love You, when it’s NOT a natural constant part of their Hello/Goodbye repertoire, it stops you in your tracks when they DO say it.  They likely make more of a point of telling you, too.  You HEAR it; how could you miss it?  It ends up having significant impact and meaning; it touches, it alters, it moves you.

And, because it’s a special occasion, and you know it’s not natural, if you’re not busy with your own anxieties and insecurities, maybe you can begin to appreciate the effort they just made.  Perhaps you’ll be even more touched by the emotion they must have felt that compelled this verbal expression of affection.

Is this what I want in my new life, the one I’m working so hard to have?  Do I want “I Love You” said without meaning, or before someone really CAN mean it?  The Secure Me says No, absolutely not.  What I’d like to do instead is feel a strong level of appreciation for who someone I Love truly is inside, so when he DOES say “I Love You”, I am deeply honored and touched.

And when someone I’m with doesn’t verbally express this, I want to be secure in his affection because of all the OTHER ways he says it with everything he does, including with the simple gift of his attention and time.

And Lisa? In case YOU didn’t know? I TOTALLY LOVE YOU! 🙂  You are an amazing friend and coach (affirmation), and when I finally meet you, I’m gonna hug the stuffing out of you (physical).  If there’s anything I can do to help you, let me know (service), and I’ll have a great bottle of wine ready for us to drink over dinner in October (gift).  There, all my bases are covered.

For my friends who’ve read this? I hope this helps you. Cuz I like all of you, and even Love some of you.

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Empty Room – Reposted

This is a piece I wrote after my son moved away from home. Appropriate today, the First Day of school for my friends with and now without children. Time goes fast and empty is hard sometimes.

Years later, the walls still have waves and fish on from one of our beautiful exchange students. There’s workout equipment in there now, and it’s filled with the beautiful memories I’d hoped it would be. 🙂

Empty Room

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First Day

Dear Mom And Dad,

I know getting ready for a new school year is hard. I did it for 12 years with my beautiful boy.

Getting that supply list and standing in line at Wal-Mart, Target with all those colored pencils just waiting to create something exquisitely artistic. The cart holds the folders you hope will soon hold those “A” papers you dream for your very smart child. There’s paper and pencils they’ll use to hone their penmanship and their math skills, and that new pencil case they pleaded hard with you to buy.

You wrestle and argue with your beautiful child, who’s like no other child ever born, about what shoes, what jeans, what shirts are acceptable, cover up enough, don’t get them ridiculed for being out of style.

You help them choose classes, praying they move through the world on a better, less painful path than you chose or found to be your life.

You pack their nutritious lunch or give them money, hoping they don’t spend it on chips, snickers and soda. You arrange after school care hoping they have fun and get their homework done, somehow at the same time.

You rearrange your schedule so you can sign them up for music class. You want them to be able to play those songs that live in their heart, using those precious hands you’ve held tight all these years.

Dance class, sports, band…it’s all so important in their lives. They make friends, they gain skills, they learn the value of learning and working towards a common goal with others.

But oh, the stress in the moments leading up to that First Day. Will it all get done, work out, fall in place! You can’t wait until you settle in your chair after you’ve dropped them off at school, forcing them to pose for that picture they hate you for taking.

As I sit here alone, I want to beg of you one thing. While you’re stressing, arguing, racing around, standing in line, worrying…I want to beg of you to breathe. Stop, just for a second. Breathe! in that moment, take a picture with your heart that you will never let go. Hold it tight, and hold them tight.

Because First Days are over so very lightning fast. In the blink of an eye, your babies, your precious children, are bigger and stronger than you ever could have imagined. They move out, they move on, they begin families and lives of their own. They have their children, they make their own way. They now begin to worry, stress, and stand in line getting ready for their babies’ First Days.

Soon enough, when they and the other Mommies and Daddies are getting ready for First Day, you’ll find your house empty of the laughter, the fun, the smiles, the sad times and worry that you had no idea you were getting into when that beautiful one of a kind baby was laid in your arms that very First Day.

~ cj 2011.08.22

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Tears

Months later,
long after I felt sure
I’d freed every
imprisoned tear
I could possibly shed,

you were kind to me
for a moment.

What a shock to learn
they’d not actually
gone anywhere.

Instead,
they’d relentlessly replenished
themselves
and were stored up,
trapped,
just beneath my skin,
waiting for your
single moment
of kindness
to free themselves
and quickly fill my eyes.

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Full Force

I flung myself
full force
with complete abandon
wrecklessly
speeding
racing
barreling
falling
heart-all-in

love

with you.

no barriers
no boundaries
little caution.

but wait…

the news in
from the heart line
reports a
head-on collision
recently occurred
as an unmistakeably
direct result
of this careless
behavior.

on the scene
indications
show this tragedy
may be shaping into
the unfortunate
full force
heart-all-destroyed

death

of me.

…in hindsight
perhaps some
safety precautions
would have been
in order.

~ cj 2011.08.18

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Drawn

you begin by believing
you want to be near
you are drawn
like a moth to a flame.
you are fascinated,
attracted.
you can’t possibly get there
fast enough.
stumbling over yourself,
you fall like a meteor
lightning speed record.

you believe i am
a force of nature
energy encapsulated
i don’t seem quite human
to you in a moment
and yet in another
utterly
entirely
softly
achingly so.

you learn,
you are high
from the knowing that
you can tell me your secrets
they can’t compete
with the horror of mine
the ones that have
colored and blistered my life
the ones that i openly
willingly share

you see quickly that
i understand
everything you are
and everything you
could possibly say
because i’ve felt it all
through and through
i’ve lived to tell
and you want to hear how

you resolutely declare
there is no other like me
you’re dying to be close
because
i can save you
you know i can
be everything for you
if you could have me
for yourself.

you can’t stop your hands
from reaching out
and touching
can’t wait to stroke
to hold
to be near
to possess
to own
for your very own

you begin to dream
of taming
controlling
changing
calming
and you desperately give it a
passionate
but fruitless try

what you and others
discover soon enough is that
i am no one anyone wants
not when they get in close
and focus carefully
the intensity burns
the energy drains
the ride never stops
the ideas flow limitless
until you believe you may drown

the stories i tell
from my life
from the things
that i’ve seen
from the damage
that’s been done
to my heart by
dangerous hands i trusted
and nearly died to be near
prove too much
for you to hold
in your hands
in your head
so they spill sideways
breaking your heart.

it’s too hard
too painful
too much

so you back off
you stumble
then break into a run
breathlessly getting yourself
back into safe space
located very close
to where you were
when you used to believe
you wanted to be near.

whereupon you
immediately discover
the moment you’re there
that you are once again drawn
like a moth to a flame.

~ cj 2011.08.16

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Bending Time

Sometimes
time moves so slowly
you barely see it pass
hardly a ripple visible
paddling softly
on a moment-filled glass lake.

Sometimes
time moves in river rapids
leaving you gulping for air
swirling helplessly
in the whitewater months
that threaten to drag you under
while bashing you
on the merciless rocks

Sometimes
time moves in waves
letting you ride high
even for years
giving you long view into the future
but then pulling you under unexpectedly
catching you unaware
and dragging you forcefully under
in its compelling current.

Sometimes
time bends simply around a corner.

And Always
no matter our momentary view
of its passing
glassy, rapidly swirling or
in waves we can’t control
time continues to pass
bending ceaselessly
around that corner
until one by one
moment by moment
alone or together with another
we simply can’t reach it anymore.

~ cj 2011.08.16

I wrote this morning about time. I’m not sure I like it. It may be more than one piece. It may be no piece at all. I don’t know how long or if I’ll leave it up. I hope you’re okay with me sharing it with you.
……….
After thinking about it, I pulled the other piece out….but I’m leaving it below here….cuz it’s still about time.


Bending Time – Part II

We sat, you and I,
sipping coffee,
eating breakfast
in this corner booth
new to each other,
relishing a bended moment in time
but already knowing in our hearts
this would pass quickly.

While moments later
others sat sipping coffee,
eating breakfast
in that same time-bended corner
old, as familiar to each other
as they are to themselves,
knowing in their hearts
they won’t be here much longer,
wondering how it all went by so quickly

~ cj 2011.08.16

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My Hair

My hair suits me
curly
loud
unruly
deciding each day
where to stick out anew,
often annoying
and attracting attention.

I’ve never been able
to get its moods
or my own
to line up
in a predictable fashion.

even when I manage
to get a semblance
of order
about it or me
it lasts only a moment
and then takes off
in one way or another
standing up
falling down
sticking out.

I have
little skill
and no means
for taming the wild
and have chosen
to give up that fight

instead

embracing
and accepting
my hair

and now

me.

In this moment
when I have a semblance
of order
about me
I will admit

it’s been a
curly
loud
unruly journey
an unmanageable
wild road
learning
that standing up
falling down
and sticking out
suit me as perfectly
as my hair.

~ cj 2011.08.11 (original concept from 2011.03.05)

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The Fine Print

When it all went
so terribly wrong,
I initially believed
I’d been fooled.

I was angry
that it wasn’t
turning out
as he’d advertised.

But upon reading
with newly found glasses
I realized the fault was
my own.

I’d failed to read
The Fine Print.

~ cj 2011.08.11

It’s hard to realize you need new glasses to read the Fine Print sometimes. But when you realize it, and when you find them, oh, what a world of difference it makes.

Thank you, my friends for telling me about amplification, for listening to my heartache, and for pointing out the rack with exactly the glasses I needed sitting right there.

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Left Behind

green shirt
white shorts
mellow music
your book
and a walking plan

peppered kisses
soft words
blissful
sweet satisfaction

echoes of
your voice
a little burn
on my face
our beautiful dance

the message you
left behind
by leaving all this behind
is right here
where I can’t possibly
misplace it

it speaks
loudly
clearly
fully
and strongly enough
that I can’t possibly
mistake it

it will get me through
the days
you can’t be here.
days when I might
otherwise
have grown
just a little afraid
you’d left me behind.

Posted in Favorites, Poetry | Tagged , , | 5 Comments

A Place Of Knowing

Something about you
compels me.
I want to share
my secrets with you.

I want to strip off my clothes
in bright unforgiving light,
exposing scars
and my flaws
so you can intimately
and easily know.

I want to fully spread myself open
in nearly every way
so you can see
what I have to offer
and shine light on the darkness
you’ll need to weed through.

I want to open wide
my heart
my mouth
my mind
and guide your walk through them,
let you experience them,
feel what I feel,
see through my eyes
know what I want
from your love
in my life.

I want to do this
because when you gently whisper
I Love You
into my neck
in my ear
your words landing softly
in my heart
I want to believe you because
you’ll be doing it from
a place of knowing.

~ cj 2011.08.10

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Believable Love

I don’t want friends who tell me
Yes
because they believe that shows love.

I want friends who tell me
The Truth
because that’s when I believe they love.

~ cj 2011.08.09

Posted in Poetry, Wordplay | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Every One

In this moment

Every

one

in my life
loves me,

with the possible
exception
of the

only one

I believed
in this moment
I most wanted
it to be.

~ 2011.08.09

Posted in Favorites, Poetry | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Unmistakeable

I can hear your heart
in your breath
in the air
its loud insistence
its gentle aching
its almost insatiable longing
are unmistakeable
as anything other
than love.

I can hear your heart
in your voice
when it’s soft
when you laugh
when your sigh
escapes
tickling me
making my ears ring
words meant
only for me
its sweetness
and buttery
smoothness
are unmistakable
as anything other
than love

I can feel your heart
in your caress
in the tight circle
of your arms
in your lips
pressed long
against my neck
the moment you reach
the second you touch
each minute
our skin touches skin
its velvety sweetness
the kindness and need
are unmistakeable
as anything other
than love.

~ cj 2011.08.09

I felt this poem coming up from my heart. My head believed it was going to express my fear that you’re falling in love with love, instead of with me. But my head didn’t get a say for right now, because my heart insisted on this offering instead.

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A Book Shelf of Thoughts

What if you viewed your thoughts as if they were books on a shelf?

You might have a standard favorite to get you through a situation. You choose it over and over, quote from it, memorize it, point it out to others.

It becomes so familiar and close to you that it turns itself into fact in your head…and then you behave or speak from the space that has chosen this thought as a truth, worthy of reacting from.

The next time, before you make your final selection, imagine what might happen if you stopped yourself long enough, before pulling that worn out book off the shelf as your own, to check out some of the other available titles.

It doesn’t mean you can’t put those books back on the shelf and go back to your favorite, once you’ve had time to consider the others.

But you’ve opened your mind by considering other possible choices. And if you DO choose another one from which to respond, you might just find yourself better READ (i.e. understood)!

**************************
Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom. ~ Viktor Frankl

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The Magic Of Accountability

Accountability is magic. Pure magic. Perhaps the structure, the tool, the software, the paper, the process…plays into it some, but for me, accountability is where the rubber squeals on the road.

Last week, my friend Anna told me about her War Board (is it okay to spill the beans about this Anna?) Pfft. *I* wanted one of those. So I made one. And MAN did that motivate me! It motivated me because it’s holding me accountable, and it’s motivating me because I told Anna about it. I haven’t managed to cross anything off on it, but it’s in my face reminding me of everything I need to do. Her particular version of this is a whiteboard that she carries around with her. Mine’s a bit large for that, but seeing I spend 75% of my time in the same room, a stationary white board is working just fine for me.

Last week, my friend David took the time to go through my website, and asked me about what my company does. He’s going to help me revamp my content. I have a full mind map of new content, a design partially done, and the database structure created. It’s been like that for well over a year. But now David looking has created a strong desire in me to show up. I already started going through the mind map, taking what he suggested and melding them together into an outline. My goal is to have the website up in 2-3 weeks tops. A project that’s been sitting in the swamp for all this time, with a little bit of accountability, is going to be done before the sun sets on August.

A few weeks ago, another friend of mine, Karen, challenged her friends to move just a little bit every day. (Wasn’t it something like 15 minutes, Karen?) I haven’t been perfect about it, but until her challenge, I hadn’t burned off 2500 calories in a week since I ran the Marathon in February. I’ve significantly increased my level of exercise just so I can get on her Facebook status and tell her I moved. This past weekend, I was so motivated to be able to tell her I moved, I even got on my treadmill. (I have a treadmill desk, by the way, to keep the boredom of this pursuit to a minimum.)

I’ve been writing a significant amount again since the end of 2010. I had most of it on a private website. I put it on this website recently, transferring it over in pieces as I have time. And when I write new pieces, I’ve been posting them on Facebook. Guess what’s happening!? I’m writing even MORE than I was before. I’m writing something nearly every day now. I know people are watching, including my friends Karen, Rick, and Pat. I always have something to say, and now that I know someone cares about it, I’m writing it down and putting it out here, making sure it gets out of me.

I lost 50 pounds on a website called SparkPeople because of the accountability other members provided by caring. I wrote over 370 blog posts and made over 300 friends. Could I have done it without the built in accountability of a network whose members are ALWAYS ready to talk about weight loss? Perhaps.

Both of my exchange students cited me living “Do one thing every day that scares you” as a major inspiration. That still makes me show up every day and do one thing that scares me. I don’t want to let them down.

Another friend of mine, Chris, who inspires me more than he knows, told me he’s been keeping up with me and watching what I’ve been going through. He openly shared his insight and wisdom, and was able to do that because he’d been witnessing. In hindsight, he’s someone I wish I HAD been more accountable to. I suspect I wouldn’t be in some of the situations I’m in now, if I had that accountability in place.

A friend of mine pointed out to me that I function much better when there are people in my life to witness me and what I’m doing. She’s spot on. At its core, that’s what accountability is – witnessing what another accomplishes. It’s not about bossing them, managing them, training them, or judging them. It’s simply someone who cares.

I’ve made big changes in my life, and have continued to work on issues, pushing, determined, forward. It’s been a difficult road. Of course, I’m motivated because I want these changes and I’m determined to create this new beautiful life for myself. Doing this requires tools, and I think the tool of Accountability is absolutely the most magic one available to me.

I remember a line from a movie with Richard Gere and I don’t remember who else….about how marriage at its core is having someone to witness your life. I’m moving into a new chapter of my life where I won’t have that marriage to hold me accountable. I understand clearly now how someone would flounder in a new role when their teammate and they have gone on different paths. I thoroughly admire people who are single, and are armed and acting on their plan without an obvious partner.

What I’ve started to discover is that almost universally, the people who are moving forward successfully have accountability firmly in place. Thanx to a myriad of friends, and an examination of how I accomplished things successfully in my past, that group now includes me. 🙂

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Silent Burden

I make noise
In my space
To relieve the silence
Of its awe-full burden.

It’s a heavy load
My silence carries
Trying to keep the noise down
And make the air
Be still.

~ cj 2011.08.07

It’s completely silent here. After we hung up I started typing this poem out just to make noise, because it was too silent.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Smile

Stingy smile
Stretched thin,
barely discernible as such
without a good deal
of imagination.

It replaced,
without warning,
the broad gaping laugh
that was filled with teeth,
and the back of your throat.

Do you remember it?
I do.

It was the one that
spread wide
covering your face
with light,
readily, easily visible
when I first met you.

~ cj 2011.08.04

Posted in Favorites, Poetry | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Juggling Lies

Turn down the lights
Please pour the wine
The show is delightful tonight
The star is dressed up
Her shoes and hair shine
And she’s a devilishly beautiful sight

The stage is all set
With dishes and props
And a net in case you should fall
The music queues up
The feast melts in your mouth
You feel sure you’ve died after all

The spotlight blots out
All the trouble backstage
While the dancing completely distracts
The star juggles lies
And swirls her disguise
And is convinced we’re entranced by her act.

~ cj 2011.08.02

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Gone

I walked in this room today,
to find you just
gone.

Each thing you last touched,
everywhere you last moved,
the spot where you last
laid your head down
for a moment of rest,
and some peace…

It all still remains
bearing witness
to your previous presence
while you’re
gone.

The air you once breathed
now sucks the life from my lungs
as I look around at our
dreams not come true.

We relentlessly killed
each dream
and each other
with fear.

False stable of wishing and
a life full of hope
are still palpable
in these walls
even now with you
gone.

You did as I asked.
You moved on
when I thought it best
for you to be
gone.

But now
when I talk to you,
you seem easily empty of us,
ok with our fate,
filled with glad to be
gone.

while I remain here
dying from stale air and
dead dreams
that, like you, are now
gone.

Perhaps I wanted you to fight
just a bit more,
clinging with me
to those
false, fated dreams
so I wouldn’t have the air
sucked out of my lungs
when I walk in this room
and find you just
gone.

~ cj 2011.08.02

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Impenetrable Wall

All In all you’ve built yourself
One hell of an impenetrable Wall.

So tall and thick
That you can’t even see over it,
or around it,
and often mistake it for a wall
you’ve convinced yourself
belongs to me.

So familiar to your landscape
you believe it’s the way things should be.

So solid, pervasive
no
climbing
convincing
scaling
talking
chipping
crying
digging
discussing
blasting
begging
going around
getting past it
other than momentarily
and not fully at that.

If I choose this,
I’ll have to wait

and hope
with my whole heart
that one day
you’ll see it’s not needed

destroying it for yourself
on your own
letting the light all the way
cleanly and fully
in and out of your heart.

Until then, I have to stop being Flashlight Girl
It isn’t working to
run up and down the beach,
shining a light on this and that,
hoping you’ll see.

I’m running out of batteries,
killing my heart in the dark,
building myself one hell of
an impenetrable Wall.

~ cj 2011.07.29

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When I Find

When I find you
we won’t be lonely anymore.

We’ll cuddle close,
dream dreams,
and we’ll dance.

We’ll walk through woods,
splash waves
gaze often at stars
and the moon.

We’ll be adored
and assured
laugh often,
sing loud,
cling close,
read books,
run fast,
go far.

We’ll stop searching.

We’ll travel well.

And we won’t be lonely anymore.

When I find me
I won’t be lonely anymore.

I’ll cuddle close,
dream dreams,
and I’ll dance.

I’ll walk through woods,
splash waves
gaze often at stars
and the moon.

I’ll be adored
and assured
laugh often,
sing loud,
cling close,
read books,
run fast,
go far.

I’ll stop searching.

I’ll travel well.

And I won’t be lonely anymore.

~ cj 2011.07.28

I put it in two columns. Which comes first? Finding myself? Or finding you. Maybe the truth is that I find myself through you. Or maybe I find you because I’ve found myself.

Posted in Favorites, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | 18 Comments

Causing Our Own Demise

The Jealous cause their own demise.

If you’ve had an insanely jealous partner, you know what I’m talking about. The jealousy comes from a fear of losing the love of that partner. What’s ironic, though, is that the jealousy (which has lack of self-esteem at its roots) is what ultimately causes the exact loss that jealous person most fears. This loss (because of the jealousy) serves to reinforce the jealous person’s world view, causing them to act even more jealous in the next relationship they manage to get in.

This concept of causing our own demise applies in other areas of life. Limiting beliefs and clung-to world views inherently cause reinforcement of those beliefs and world views. We tell ourselves and others stories, and then we look for and present evidence that supports those stories. We build up our ‘story wall’ high, and attract others whose world views and beliefs fit with or support this wall in some way. In other words, we cause our own demise with them.

Soon, we can’t see past our stories, can’t imagine how to move past them, become unaware that there’s even a world beyond them. The wall grows so strong and tall that something huge, shocking, jolting, has to come along to demolish it….or it just stays that way forever, thickening and continuing to cause our own demise.

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Thought While Running Uphill

There’s a world of difference between “I don’t want to”, and “I can’t”.

One is a choice. The other is an unfortunate state of mind.

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Isn’t It Obvious?

A friend of mine was telling me this last night about someone she knows. 

The person she knows sees successful people, and he gets really bummed about where HE’S at. 

She asks “Is that what you WANT to do?  Is that where you want to be?”

He usually says no. so she tells him:

“If you don’t want to do it, then why be unhappy that you’re not doing it?  Why not just be happy with the choice you’re making?”

If you want something to change, you can’t just wish it into existence. You have to take action. Go for it. 

If you try and fail, THEN maybe you can feel justified in being angry or disappointed. 

Or maybe you can learn from what went wrong and try again or try something else.
Chances are though, you’ll accomplish at least enough to be proud, and you’ll definitely learn something along the way, both about what you’ve pursued, and likely about yourself as well.

Isn’t this obvious?

Posted in Essay, SparkPeople | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Breeze

The guitar is still out,
the jelly is here.
The shirt is all folded
and smells sweet of you.
your hug tightly held
with your gaze, in my heart
i wonder if you’re
hurt, surprised, too.

it was only a moment
a climax, a rush
i should be over it soon
but i never dreamed
i’d be this hurt and surprised
by how your breeze
just blew through my room.

~ cj 2011.07.22

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Nuttin’ But Go

I’m dancing at the intersection here
To Nuttin’ But Stringz

Waiting for the light to change,
eager with anticipation for the moment
I’m released to fly forward.

My energy builds
as the music swells
Pulse racing,
body bouncing
While cars rush by fast.

They don’t see the Power inside me.
They don’t know how fast I can move too,
even without all the metal and gas that’s powering them.

But they’re about to find out
They’re about to witness
Me, exploding.
Me, bounding across the intersection.

The light’s a bright green
Are they ready?
It’s MY turn to go
Powered by Nuttin’ But Stringz.

~ cj 2011.07.22

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One Day

One day
I hope
you’re free
to spend
one more
night
with me.

And then
another day
I hope
you’re free
to spend
more than
One night
with me.

~ cj 2011.07.20

Posted in Writing | 2 Comments

Dancing

I’m dancing
all around
my space

loud music.

loud pounding
outside
making all the
loud pounding
in my head
disappear,

disintegrated
by the beat
of the loud music
that i’m dancing
all around to
in my space.

~ cj 2011.07.20

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Click

She closed the door
quietly on her way out.

So silently, in fact,
that he didn’t hear
the ever so subtle sound
as that latch caught
for her final time.

So stealthy and slowly
that he missed
every sign she was
no longer there,
disappearing gradually
but forever
from his view.

Shhhh.
Click.

~cj 2011.07.07

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Protected: Taking Stock

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Unarmored Mercy

You’re under my skin
against the meat of me,
embedded in my flesh,
holding my scarred heart,
which is beating like hell,
unarmored,
mercy-filled,
in your beautiful hands.

Surprised,
I don’t have any clothing in here;
I’m a naked,
raw,
scared small child,
huddling in the open,
vulnerable,
so sensitive.
Any wind blows me,
any heat sears me,
any chill kills through to my bones, blue grey frostbite.

I love you,
ache for you,
scream for you.
You are my merciful muse.
I dream in the night,
believe with the fiber of me,
all the day,
that you’re perfect for me,
am terrified that you’re perfect for me,
while in those same moments
can scarcely breathe through the fear
that maybe I’m all wrong for you.

You keep my secrets,
wipe my tears,
whisper my name,
grab my hair,
kiss my nipples erect in the night air,
bring me to climax
while trying to hold me at bay,
all my wild passions,
until we heal,
till we’re whole,
while we wait to be free.

But I’m no help to you here
with that Herculean load
even though I see all the grace
you’re trying to walk through this with.
I cannot help you or myself
because you are under my skin
and it’s all I can see,
all I feel,
you embedded,
emblazoned
against the aching
child flesh of my
unarmored,
mercy-filled heart.

~ cj 2011.07.06

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Butterfly

Yesterday, as I walked to the shed to salt the water, I caught a glimpse of the butterfly he put in a garden he created for me.  A butterfly, the symbol of a free life after struggle, is the only thing still standing in that garden.  The plants are dead, too much harsh sun, no water or care.  The chairs are dumped over so there’s nowhere to be seated and comfortable anymore.

The hummingbirds get sugar elsewhere; they’ve long ago drained all the red from the heart of their feeder.

The cord that the lights plugged into has gone missing, so it’s dark now at night, the sparkly replaced by black as coal isolation.

But the butterfly on the stand remains.

A butterfly knows how to survive a hard struggle.  It uses those beautiful wings to beat its way from a prison of its own making. I imagine it scarcely knows what it’s fighting while the battle is raging.  It trusts, like I did and still do, that there’s hope on the other side of that time.  i know from my own wars that it must want to give up more times that it can likely admit.

When it emerges, I wonder if it, like me, is confused by how it went into its shell in one form, in one place, to come out again.  It looks down to see new wings, different legs, and a full season’s gone by.  So much shifted, all this power now, no idea what to do next.  It doesn’t even know what it owns, where to go.  I imagine all it can do is move around and breathe, take each experience in, feel the moment, blinking, shifting.

I wonder if it feels slightly hopeless for a second like I do, overwhelmed by the task of starting over.

The butterfly he planted in the prison of our making is on its stand, frozen stalk still, perhaps waiting, like me, to gather the strength to fly.

I will help it, I will, in the same way I will find my own way to fly, as soon as I’m done salting my water.

~ cj 2011.07.02

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Vacations Over, What A Trip

Before I left, things weren’t right
and I could scarcely wait to go,
But while I was gone
I lost my way, and the memory
of what compelled my journey.

Vacation tends to trip my mind
It sends me places I wish I could stay
Places that aren’t really there
Situations that aren’t actually true.

I created a fantasy world
Of how we are together
and how my life is
Now and in the Future
As real to me as the bookstore
I wrote to you from
And the river I sat beside
when we spoke.

But I left all that behind
to come back to my life
It was a hard drive home
And made me forget to leave
the fantasy I’d created for us.

A few days have gone by
since Vacation ended
My trip is beginning to fade
And my reason for escape has reappeared
This time, though,
that journey I took
gave me the strength to live with
and accept what really is,
so I can escape
and take a new journey
without leaving home again.

~ cj 2011.06.30

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Time To Go Home

Time to go home
Excited, yet not
Ready to resume
Reluctant to, too.

~ cj 2011.06.26

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Finally, Broken, Silent

You’re gone and this is over
finally
broken
silent
the end of a journey I never dreamed would end
with both of us still breathing

It’s deafening,
the loud quiet you left behind
and the spaces where your shoes
and your tools used to be
are filled now with tears
and a whole bunch of empty.

I found a fossil on the way up the walk
It was something you proudly found
on our land
and brought home for me
to smile on.

No more smiles for our finds
only fossils are left behind
witnessing this death
of being over
forever

finally
broken

and now silent.

~ cj 2011.06.14

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A Feeled Trip to Remember (SparkPeople)

On January 1st I dropped a bomb in the middle of my life, setting off reverberations that echoed to my core in ways I never expected.

I’ve been married for 21 years, and on the morning of my 21st anniversary I asked for a divorce. I never thought I’d be “one of those people” who had long term marriages that failed. I never thought I’d be one of those single women again, back to dating after having something they were sure they’d always have. I always believed that, despite our issues, we’d never leave each other permanently.

But 3 years ago, the spiral started in a way that I just couldn’t recover from no matter how desperately I tried to set it all right. You always think you can forgive, forget, move on. In hindsight, I know the two moments that ended up being the final destructive factors, but in those moments, they didn’t seem as monumental as they turned out to be.

September, November and December of this year solidified things, and set them in motion, making me see things I could never unsee.

But oh, if I’d known what was going to happen in 2011, I haven’t always been so sure I’d make that same decision again. Or would I?

The mirror of my marriage breaking and falling to the floor revealed a truth behind it that couldn’t be ignored anymore. My marriage had been providing a cover, a rug, a wall, a series of dysfunctions that kept me from facing the truth that my childhood issues really hadn’t been resolved. Almost immediately, the monsters that were hiding under the bed came up to try to claim me.

Abandonment issues, undiagnosed PTSD, a deep-seated feeling of never truly connecting with anyone showed up immediately. Some other things took a little longer to be revealed, and my guess is, I’m not to the bottom of it all yet. An intensely verbal communicator who processes nearly everything by speaking or writing about it, had absolutely no outlet, not even once, as a child. A person who craved physical affection, even if it was as simple as holding hands in the night, never got that as a child. Now it was gone again, and that utter loneliness ached in a way that shocked me. 15 years as a child being told, every time I cried “You’re crying? You want something to cry about?”…generally followed by receipt of something to cry about, taught me tears weren’t okay. They turned into anger because we need to release those emotions. I married into a situation that supported the restraint of those tears. I literally avoided crying for over 40 years.

But now, the tears that came up from this bomb I exploded in my life made me feel like I was drowning, like there was no bottom to this ocean of pain. Days turned into weeks turned into months until I began to think I didn’t want to breathe anymore, because the crying was killing me.

But it’s 5 months later. And I’m alive. I survived. . . I’ve seen the bottom now. I know what it looks like, and I know I can survive nearly any pain now. I still cry, but crying doesn’t equal dying anymore. The knowledge that my heart can ache that bad, and still beat, is absolute empowerment. I have nothing to lose anymore. I’ve already risked it all and survived.

And the richness of this experience, the good and the bad, the light of resurrection and redemption I see in my future, the possibility of finding a true connection with another man, while creating some true deep connections with the people who have shown up for me now, are worth the price I’m paying, even on my worst days. I get a new chance to find what I crave, to find a fit for me, whoever I turn out to be. There have been so many precious gifts along the way, including the gifts of the poems and essays that have come from my heart during this journey.

In this 5 months, I’ve found the most amazing friendships; people willing to hold me for hours in person or listen to a pit of pain on the phone as I let it all loose. Friends who have inspired me to survive, and who are inspired by me to make the hard choice for happy, whatever the cost. I’ve been able to begin truly discovering who I am, what my gifts are, and how I can change my world with the time I have left.

Every single day I’ve learned more about myself. Some of it has been brutally painful to face, as I’ve made mistakes that have almost cost me important relationships I want to preserve. But I’m falling forward as fast as I can, failing, facing, fixing and flying.

The changes have started to be visible on the outside, too. Little by little, almost without my own awareness of what I was doing, I set my life up in a way that can ultimately support what I want to do. I have a car now that doesn’t break down, I reduced my work overhead by closing our physical offices and reducing other expenses, I’ve gotten knowledge and will soon have control over my finances, and at the end of May, I’m leaving for awhile. I’m going to go on what I know will ultimately be a life changing journey, going to Arizona, California, Utah, Colorado, and then back to Texas. I will visit friends along the way, I will be working, too. But mostly I will be thinking, reading, writing and changing. I’ll have me, Sophie Sue, my bike, some of my music equipment, my computer and lots of pencil lead.

Today, I filed for divorce in Hays County. Another friend of mine has decided to do the same, so we made a field trip out of it to reduce the impact, the sadness, for ourselves. The filing location was called the Justice Center, which I found so very fitting. It was a memorable day, as I broke the copy machine, dropped my papers everywhere, laughed so hard people looked out of the courtroom at us, made friends with the County Clerk, and helped my friend through it as she helped me.

One particular moment stands out as a great representation for this entire journey. When we first went into the Center, I went through security a little too quickly for the security guard’s taste. I can’t remember which thing he said to me:

“Are you running from something?”
or
“Are you in a big hurry to get somewhere?”

But in either case, the answer is YES. Even though the marathon has been over for months, I am still running for my life. And this Field Trip today has been one in a series of field trips that have altered the journey of my life in a way I intend to use as fuel to fly through the rest of what’s to come.

I will not go through this pain and these experiences for naught. I don’t believe things happen for a reason. But I believe we give things that happen a reason. And the reason I’ve done this is because I, CJ, will ride any roller coaster I need to ride, suffer any pain I need to suffer, do any work I need to do on myself, and go through anything I need to go through, if happiness, fulfillment, satisfaction, and love are where I’m headed.

And with my resilience and tenacity (which, with the help of my friends, I see is my core), I believe, finally, that I will find exactly what I’m looking for. It’s been a long time coming, and I’m sure I’ve got a long way to go, but I’m on my way. And what a ‘Feel-ed’ Trip this has been. 🙂

Originally posted at SparkPeople.

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Catch 22

if I step back you build a wall of why you’re right to say so long.
if I stay close you charge me from your book of my done-wrongs

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The Ride To Happy (SparkPeople)

Are you happy. Don’t know? How about doing this exercise: Each day write down what percentage of the time you felt happy that day.

Is that too long of a time period? Do you tend to write down how you’re feeling at that moment, when you’re tired and exhausted, discounting the rest of what might have been a happy day?

Try starting with smaller time periods and adding them up, examining your happiness in smaller increments. Each half day, each hour; find a unit of time that you can put a percentage on.

Maybe you’re not even sure what “happy” is? Perhaps that word is too watered down and meaningless. Is it a good task to find a different word for happy that resonates with you?

Or is it a more necessary task to figure out what makes you happy, because your unsureness has nothing to do with the meaning of that word.

It’s also important to determine if happy (or that word you’ve chosen) is a core value for you. If you think it is, yet you’re spending too much time embracing other emotions, welcoming them in, you’re out of alignment with your core. When you’re out of alignment like that, on the wrong path, it won’t be easy to live that declared core value.

If it’s not truly a core value, then expecting you’ll put the effort in to have it isn’t reasonable.

There’s an assumption that everyone wants to be happy, that everyone has this as a core mission. But wallowing, anxiety, sadness, righteous anger are powerful drugs and many people are addicted to them. They are powerful tools that are used to justify nearly everything that happens to them or that they do to others.

These emotions can be used to justify what one thinks as well. They create their own path, their own reality. They make their own worse nightmares come true.

Anxiety, fear, and sadness are a more natural state for an adult than happiness. We remember the “lost happiness” of childhood. We’ve embraced these emotions, believing they protect us from harm. If we hold them closely enough, eventually they’re the only thing between us and the world. There’s no way for the good to get in, good that might have left us needing less protection.

What is embracing unhappy giving you? or allowing you to tell yourself? or letting you get away with or without doing? Perhaps you don’t feel you deserve happiness. Each of us own an Unlovable Monster.

Every unhappiness that comes our way, whether we seek it or it lures us out of our bubble, can be a tasty morsel, given as an offering to that Unlovable Monster.

What monsters are you feeding by holding on to your wrongs? What happiness are you leaving wounded and unrecoverable?

The work of killing the Unlovable Monster, as it stands in the way of your desperately sought happiness, is harder in the short run, than the effort of cooking it up another meal and dining with it.

But if you love happiness like I do, it’s worth pushing away from the table, getting out of the Unhappiness Home, and going on the emotional roller coaster ride it will take to reach the place where the sun is so bright it burns the Unlovable Monster beyond recognition.

Originally posted on SparkPeople.

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Sleep On It

Now I lay me down to sleep
I know this road to love is steep
If I should run for frightened sake
Please hold on, there’s much at stake

Before you say you’re done with this
Close soft your eyes and dream my kiss
And trust, my heart, know when I shove
What I seek, I fear, is all your love.

~ cj 2011.05.02

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Delete

Something’s crawling up my skin
from my toes to my scalp
A noise
Making the hair rise on my arms
The blood rush loud in my ears
My heart hammer out of its cage
Creeping, choking, confining me
With horror, disgust, fear

I remind my breath not to stop
And hold my hands
To calm their shaking
I find my knees a chair
To discourage them from buckling

And slowly I release the anxiety
From owning me
By remembering you’re not really here
By reminding myself I don’t have to allow you
to reach me

I deeply inhale the air
I now own on my own

I turn my phone back on
And in a stroke of love for myself

I firmly delete your message.

~ cj 2011.04.27

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Still Here

where your hand held my wrist
and your lips kissed my cheek
where my legs pulled you close
to my soul

You are here with me now
my heart’s eye holds you near
warm long past when
you’ve let me go

 

~cj 2011.04.22

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Moving

The rest of the world moves on.
While I wonder where I’m going.
And run behind and spin around
And question each thing I’m doing.

~ cj 2011.04.07

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The Plan of the Hour & The Next Race (SparkPeople)

I know it’s been awhile since I posted. I haven’t known what to say, and I haven’t wanted to say what I know.

My husband and I are still going our separate ways. Let’s be honest, although we’re still living together, we went our separate ways long ago. I posted something on Facebook recently that said it all. Something like: Of course it rots if you drain the formaldehyde from it.

This journey, that I started when I asked for a separation on New Year’s Day, has been MUCH more painful and MUCH more jarring than I would have expected. It’s taken me three + years to get to this point, but I really thought I’d be unscathed as I untangled.

Instead, childhood issues I never dealt with have pummeled me nearly constantly. And the reality that this marriage was a living breathing thing. The marriage has died, and all that’s left are the artifacts and assets, there to remind me when I least expect it and am ill equipped to handle it, that it’s over.

There’s been gifts in this, but they are hard-won, paid for with a river of tears.

I haven’t cried really in 45 years. Instead, I’ve been angry. Angry is easy. I’m not angry anymore. But my river of tears is still flowing at springtime, mountain melt pace more than I’m comfortable with.

I’ve been writing a great deal since January. I’ve written several essays and poems that I’d like to get published. I started sharing some of my writing with friends, reading it to them. I always thought just writing it down was healing. As it turns out, writing it down was only capturing that moment. Reading it to them is when the healing really started happening. I’ve gotten extremely clear that writing and story-telling are what I’m here to do. Sharing my story, helping others find pieces in it that will help them, is what I now know will ultimately heal me, too.

I’ve had to face the financial cliff we’d fallen off of. I knew things were bad, but I had no idea how bad they were. I’ve had to make some hard changes, but in a way, I see that they’re going to benefit me and give me the freedom I’ve been longing for, for several years.

I’m closing down the physical office of my business, and my employees are going to be virtual for awhile (that’s the plan for now – stay tuned – it’s changed several times. 🙂 The reduction in overhead will give me more flexibility in pricing projects, reducing work hours to pursue other passions, give us a business opportunity to learn and expand our services in ways we wouldn’t be able to do if we were suffocating.

I’m opening my heart and my life more to friends. I’ve always heard people say “I couldn’t have done xyz without my friends”. I’ve had friends, but I’ve never let them get TOO close. In the past three months, though, I’ve had a surprising number of friends show up in powerful, meaningful ways that have truly made an irreplaceable difference to me. I’ve spent hours and hours talking to them, figuring out what happened, learning about myself, going over it all from childhood til now. Nearly every person I’ve told about this has contributed something to what I know, something to my recovery. And the few times they’ve said something negative, that’s been a lesson for me, too.

I’ve got some great questions in my head to think about, to stop myself from going off the deep end. I’ve learned about self-soothing. I’ve been surprised countless times as I discover the true nature of our relationship and of who I am inside.

And slowly, I’m starting over. I know what I want Point B to be. I know what I want to do with my life now, I know how I’m going to get my debts paid off. The road there, though, that’s not so clear. The Plan changes by the hour, but I’m now gaining confidence that soon the right plan will show up for me, and I will be on a faster path than I am now.

My health has definitely suffered from this. I’ve gained 20 pounds back from not eating right, not sleeping, not working out enough, not drinking water. The okay part is that I know how to get it off, and I’m still working out some. The energy to pay attention isn’t there yet, but I feel like it will be soon.

I’m about to start training for the San Diego Marathon in June. I ran my first ever marathon in February. The metaphor of running for my life while running for my life carried me through both the intense emotional and challenging physical realities I was up against. The next marathon I run will be challenging as well, but I’m hoping to take the lessons from the first one, and have an easier go of it the second time around.

I’m hoping for the same thing in my life, as I train for this marathon. I’ll take the lessons I’ve been learning, the hope I’m starting to have, and now that I know what my goal is going to be, start getting my plan together for the next leg of this journey.

The baby steps I’m taking (running shorter races, figuring out where I’m going to live in a month) will get me from here to there. Maybe in bursts and lurches, but it only matters if I cross that finish line.

Originally posted on SparkPeople.


 

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It’s Not The Decision That’s Hard (SparkPeople)

I wrote this mantra for myself this morning:

****************************
I am so glad I made the decision I made. It was the right decision for me. And although it is going to be challenging to follow through on this decision, and all that it entails, the life waiting for me on the other side will be worth the cost of following through on this decision I’ve made.
****************************

I am going to memorize this and apply it to my whole life, starting at this exact moment.

It isn’t the decision that’s hard. It’s the indecision about the decision. And then it’s the action needed to made the decision reality.

Originally posted on SparkPeople.

 

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Running For My Life – My First Marathon (SparkPeople)

Originally posted on SparkPeople.

Last Sunday, Feb. 20th, I completed my first marathon. My goal was to finish in under 6 hours, and I did it. My final time was 5:41:54.

I thought for sure I wouldn’t be able to walk afterwards. I thought for sure, I’d be brutally sore for days.

As it turns out, I’m not. I got a 90 minute massage a few hours later, and although I’m likely going to lose two toenails, other than that, I’m just a little sore in the quad area. Perhaps I didn’t run fast enough.

Or perhaps I wasted a lot of time worrying about something that ultimately didn’t happen.

If you’ve read my other two blog posts from this year, you probably know there’s been lots of upheaval in my life. After being married for 21 years, I asked my husband for a separation on the morning of our 21st anniversary.

I thought for sure I couldn’t do this. I thought for sure I’d emotionally implode. I stayed longer than I should have, and he did too. And while it’s true I’m recovering from the marathon much faster than this separation, and while it’s true that this separation is more painful than I could have possibly imagined, it’s had the benefit of shifting our realities, so that no matter what happens, some big change will occur. And many of the things I was worrying would happen by separating were a waste of my worry time, too.

The irony of me training for the hardest thing I’ve ever done physically while going through the hardest thing I’ve ever done emotionally isn’t lost on me. It’s intertwined completely, and the messages and information from each have been great metaphors for the other. In fact, the week of the marathon, the entire answer to one of the most suffocating personal problems we’ve had for three solid years came to me.

During this separation, everything that was never resolved from my childhood has been coming back to haunt me. All the things I thought I could ignore or plow through have shown their nasty faces right in mine, demanding immediate attention. Things I never grieved, interactions I’ve participated in or tolerated, behaviors I’ve continued even in the face of them being toxic, and ways I’ve changed myself to stay in this relationship have devastated me in the past month. Sometimes I’m in so much emotional pain, I can barely breathe.

Everything I thought I could plow through without bothering to understand or do to get ready for the marathon and run it, has come back to haunt me, too. Three weeks ago I ran a Half Marathon as part of this Austin Distance Challenge I just completed. I added another 7 miles to it because I was supposed to do a 20 mile run that day. I ended up with minor heatstroke. I know what I did wrong now – I wore a sub 40 degree shirt, combined with two other shirts and a bra, on a day that turned out to be sporting 80 degree weather. I knew not to add new equipment without trying it out, yet I ignored that information regarding my clothing.

So I’m learning, in both cases, how to create space in my life to do things the careful, attentive, correct way.

In my personal life, I’m learning to grieve, I’m learning to express righteous anger. I’m learning to live with anxiety. I’m learning to respond instead of react. I’m learning to sit still with indecision, rather than making a poor choice to get rid of the uncertainty. I’m learning to create space to think, to consider new possibilities, to accept that a relationship really IS a third being that needs attention. I’m learning to pay attention and prepare a little in advance, too, although this skill will likely take me years to achieve any kind of competency.

In my physical life, I’m learning that I can’t just put on shoes and haul a$$ on the trail. I’m learning about magnesium, potassium, calcium, hydration, protein, carbohydrates. I’m learning about building up my muscles, pacing myself, showing up for the small runs, not just the long ones. I’m learning that I need to take in hydration and nutrition before I’m in trouble. I’m learning that if I want to maintain an injury free body that can run and race for awhile, I need to take care of it when I’m not running, in the same way I need to take care of my heart when it isn’t hurting, not just when it is.

I’ve been getting massages, something that heals both types of aching. I’ve been talking to friends about how to train properly, how soon to race again, and how to take in proper nutrition and hydration so I can endure. I’ve been talking to friends, counselors and coaches about how to solve my personal issues. I’ve been telling them the stories that I HAVEN’T polished off, the ones that are raw and painful, and trusting they will not abandon me.

And I’ve been writing, nearly non-stop, definitely daily, making notes about how to make it through the marathon, and writing my heart out to fix the stuff going on in my life.

I didn’t finish the marathon perfectly. I was going to run 2 minutes, walk 1. There were several times where I walked way more than one. Toward the end, I was happy to note that I was the only one really still doing any running at all. And at the end, I landed myself in the med tent for dizziness and cramps. But I finished, I had an acceptable time, and I recovered quickly.

I’m not fixing all this life stuff perfectly either. I don’t know for sure in the end if I’ll get a divorce or not. I know I’ll likely be separated for a long period of time, and I know there’s a lot of work I’ll have to do, and so will my husband, before we can come back together in any kind of friendship or marriage.

What’s come out of running this marathon, and what’s coming so far from separating from my marriage is a better understanding of my body, my mind, and my heart. It’s been a learning experience on all fronts, and although extraordinarily painful, it’s the proudest I’ve been of myself physically and mentally in a long time.

I’ve got at least a basic understanding now of how to train for this Austin Distance Challenge so next year when I sign up, I’ll do better. I’ve got a basic understanding now of the work I need to do on a personal level, so maybe soon, I’ll be in a better space on that, too.

So many things have shifted in my life. I’ve always been a believer that things don’t happen for a reason, that coincidences are just that. But so many things have come together, and the people that are in my life are so perfect for me in this moment, that it’s hard to continue that belief system. I’m learning to live with uncertainty on this, too, and I’m learning that I don’t have to explain, understand and believe everything to accept and function inside of it.

I’m getting out of town for a few days, leaving tomorrow morning. Three of the days, I’ll be off my cell phone (likely freezing my a$$ off in Maine!), something I haven’t done in years. I’ve got a big to-do list of course, but what I like about it is that it includes space in it to do things that honor who I am and where I want to go. I’ll be focusing on my future, while hanging out with friends.

On Sunday, I’m meeting some of you from the Boston area. THANK YOU LAB-LOVER for putting that together. What a brilliant wrap up to an unbelievable first two months of 2011 to hang out with you and meet some of you for the first time.

I knew things were going to change when that clock rolled over to 2011. I knew I’d be running hard this year in ways I’ve never run before. I love that I ran for my life at the same time I’m running for my life, and although it’s been freaking scary every mile, I am committed to making it worth each ounce of sweat and tears I pour into it.

I’ve learned a lot, and I intend to share some of the details of that over time, but for now, thanx for reading and being my friend. I’m looking forward to seeing what race is next, and to learning how best to run it.

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Can I Admit?

what if you don’t like me?
what if you do?
…can i admit?

either way
i feel a bit nervous.

~ cj 2011.02.14

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I Never Noticed Before

You’re like he is
hiding outside
he hid downstairs.

I called him excited
to say Woot!
your team won
He said yeah, I know.

I call you to share
what I’ve done.
You say good job
in monotone.

You don’t stand up
or take charge
when it matters

he said I don’t care
to nearly all that I asked
as a child.

and you never leave
except that one time
like he did when my mom
tried to remove his ring
using the disposal
as her tool
and you slept in
your truck in the road
after calling me
a dumb cunt.

they didn’t last
my mom & dad
She died eaten inside out
by the cancer.

We’re over too now
two years sooner than them

and although my guts
and my heart
feel eaten, destroyed
I’m getting out
while I still have
a chance to survive

my dad died with her
he never loved
or even really lived again.

and although you’re like him
I hope in the same way
My escape is different than hers
You’ll be different than him
and find your own way to live
and one day love again.

~ cj 2011.02.07

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Lonely

You are lonely.
I am lonely.
And we stay lonely.

Who made that rule
Who holds us there?
Do we get a reward
for this suffering?

Or have we,
by staying lonely
created a space between
Where a callous can grow
And some plaque can form
Breaking the bond we have
so we can do nothing more
Than stay lonely
For each other.

~ cj 2011.02.07

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Impossibly Far

Impossibly far from here
we’re eating breakfast together
eggs, mine covered in cheese, yours?
I’m having steak, and you,
local sausage.
In common, too, we have cold
and even a bit of snow
My honey is pollenated by
flowers far different than yours
But my toast, like yours
tastes impossibly sweet
In my mouth on my tongue.
While I smile after talking to you
I chew on my breakfast
and try to swallow the sadness
of how impossibly far we
are eating breakfast together.

~ cj 2011.02.06

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Feather

like a feather
gently swirling
over a cliff
free floating
white and graceful
twirling
from where it was
to where it’s pulled
by gravity
by nature
by aching
and joy
inevitable
and peaceful
dangling
and lifting
swelling
and swirling
spinning
and dancing
downwards
till it lands
on the earth
solid ground
sighing
infinitely grateful
for the beautiful
movement
that is falling in love.

~ cj

2011.02.06

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Strong Enough To Do A Load or Two

Two days ago, I had the emotional energy to do a single load of laundry.  It was the first time, since I’d begun peeling the layers that were us off my skin.  I watched it pile up day after day, like the broken agreements between us, stinky in the corner.

I ran out of underwear and bought some more so I wouldn’t have to bend over and sort the colors from the whites.  I’ve done that with you, finding new ways to give us chances so I wouldn’t have to sort through the soiled.

By time I ran out of my favorite shirts, it was rather embarrassing how full the house was with the dirty things, my favorites all tangled up with the rags from cleaning up messes.

I started to worry about stains, but still I did nothing.  I just started wearing things I didn’t like so much.  If it covered my chest, my heart, so no one could see, what was the difference?

It’s cold outside anyway, and I just wear the same coat over it all, with a hat.  I’ve been covering up all my heart aches with the same smile for awhile, too.

I’ve put a damper on the volume of my pain, stopping tears and replacing them with my fists.  My damp sweaty workout clothes are balled up like those fists, and still damp, four days after I last ran, when I overheated myself so much I collapsed.  I worry they will mold, but still I do nothing.

I can’t do the laundry until I get some detergent with which to clean this all up, but that’s even more daunting a task; a trip into town and spending money.

Three days ago, I got some on the way home from somewhere else, knowing I couldn’t put it off much longer.  I told you I couldn’t do this anymore either.

But even though I’d begun thinking about opening the round mouth and throwing some in, I didn’t do anything about it.  I’m still living here and looking at you, too, even though, like the laundry, I know I have everything I need to tackle the chore except the energy to drag myself through it.

I have gathered hangers, and then I managed to start separating the loads, noticing all the dirt now covering the floor from moving it, and seeing how some pieces stay tangled.  I leave them for later figuring they’ll sort themselves out.  Or, if not, I’ll deal with it then.

I tell you I want to separate our pieces, too, get it as close to the being on our own as we can, before making the decision about what or whether to start.  I do this with the laundry piles; color, white, or towels.  I already know what I would choose.  Definitely the color pile.  White isn’t worthwhile to me.

I notice where my new purple shirt is.  I want to make sure that’s part of the first load, even though wearing it might be why I collapsed.

For my new life, I choose color, too.  All of it, even if it doesn’t fit right away.  I can get used to it, take it off and pick something different if it doesn’t work.

I think about how my new life fits strangely right now, but I’m trying it on and walking in it anyway, even while the old one hasn’t been washed, let alone folded up or put away.  The stench and the unfinished piled up pigsty gets the best of me and two days ago I toss it in.  It didn’t turn out to be so hard, and the new handy detergent spigot lined up nicely with the dispenser cup.  I like the way the red rubber valve feels under my thumb when I press it in and pop it back out.  I was downright proud, can I admit, when I finally pressed the go button on the washer, even though it wouldn’t have normally been such a big deal.

One day ago, because I didn’t have the energy two days ago to finish the job, I put that wet mess in the dryer with a sheet of cling free or bounce, so it wouldn’t stick to me later.  I told you it was too bad you weren’t going to get out of this unscathed.  I said this with gritted teeth, anger seering through my bones.  But then, like a miracle I haven’t experienced in a long time, if ever, it just let go of me.  It stopped clinging and I bounced right back.  I felt it bolster my resolve to get this chore done.  This dirty laundry between us isn’t going to clean itself.

The buzzer went off and even though the best time to fold it is while it’s warm, I just allowed the lack of room on the counter to dissuade me.

I threw it in a basket, just pulling out a few things to keep them from wrinkling.  Then I realized I needed to use that basket, so with a sigh, I packed down the mismatched socks and unfolded work clothes already on that counter, things that weren’t going to be missed if they sat unattended at the bottom, and I heaved the basket up and gave it a dump on the top.

Yesterday I talked to you about one of the important topics we need to iron out.  I had a pretty clear plan, and more than actually deciding or doing anything, I just wanted to get clear on the colors of the matter at hand.  When we were done talking, I’d had enough for one day, so I left.

I filled my evening with the surface task of shopping for shoes so I could run, while engaging in a deep conversation about why the road I’m getting off of isn’t working for me.  I dreamed and feared the new trail ahead, too.  After hours, I felt solid enough in my standing, even though I never did find those shoes, to make my way back home.

Today, my ambitious plan is to swirl some more loads from the floor, through the washer and dryer.  I’ll enjoy the pump and the bounce.  I’m feeling able to commit to this much.

In my life, I’m hoping to begin looking at what to do with the clarity I gained yesterday inside and outside this house, once a home.  In both situations, I would be proud, or at least satisfied, if I found a path to begin folding it all up, and at least putting some of it where it belongs, even if what gets dealt with doesn’t turn out to be my favorite pieces, and even if they don’t stay neatly on their hangers or in their drawers.

I can always come back tomorrow and make it right.  For today, this will be enough.  And I get, I see, there’s more piling up.  I’ll just have to rely on the momentum of what’s coming to get me through the new dirty piles.  I am trying to disentangle me from you as cleanly as possible.  I can’t promise I’ll always succeed, and I know there’s mountains to get through. For now, though, I will concentrate on being strong enough to do a load or two.

~ cj 2011.02.05

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Just Registered For My First Full Marathon (SparkPeople)

Originally posted on SparkPeople.

In this moment, on this day, I am so proud of myself I can barely breathe.

I signed up for my very first full marathon.

It is the last in a series of five races that make up the Austin Distance Challenge. I’ve done three of them. There’s a half marathon next Sunday, and then this marathon on Feb. 20th.

What’s amazing to me is that the half marathon next Sunday? Pffft. Barely a blip on my radar. In fact, I’m going to do that race, and then add another 7 miles onto it to complete a 20 mile training run for the Real Race.

I am so proud of myself. In Sept. 2007, I signed up for SparkPeople. And did nothing. In Dec. 2007, I started making a commitment to my health. In Jul, 2008, I broke my back in 4 places, after having lost only 20 pounds. In Sept. 2008, I had surgery on my foot. In Sept. 2009, I had officially lost 50 pounds.

I was afraid, I will admit now, that I would reach my goal, and backslide to where I had started. That hasn’t happened. Instead, my life has continued to change. I’ve continued to be committed to my health as a way of life, even if it’s not as meticulously as it was for those 2 years I was losing.

And now I’ve done this, signed up for this series of races. It’s a big accomplishment where I live, to be able to say you did the Distance Challenge.

There will be many people at the marathon who have done more, faster, sooner, better than me under harsher circumstances, against greater odds. But for those moments, when I run those 26 miles, I will be prouder of myself for that than anything else I have ever done including graduating from college with my 4.0.

I will be proud because this marathon represents more than just a 26 mile race. It represents a commitment I made to myself to change the core of my life – Health #1, EVERYTHING else #2.

It represents doing something that doesn’t come natural to me – running.

It means I stuck with something, when my natural tendency is to go all out for a short burst, and then blow it off.

I don’t want to be ordinary, and by doing this, I’m doing something uncommon that not everyone does. That’s no short distance to go, that 26 miles. Someone said to me last week – you’ve done 20, what’s 6 more. They don’t understand how, when you’re near the end of that 20 training milees, you can barely imagine those few more blocks to your car. But I can, and I’m just a little sad for them not understanding the amazing pride that comes from just those last few steps.

I run at night, in the cold, in the rain. There are only a few others out there with me, putting on those miles. I’ve worked hard to figure out nutrition, equipment. I don’t have it down; I have 4 more weeks to learn. But I’m going to make it; I’m going to learn what I need to know. I’m going to cover those miles on the trail, and in my life that I need to cover.

I’ve had so very many personal challenges along the way, too. It can’t be coincidence how many things changed in my life when I started taking care of my health. And it isn’t coincidence that now, when I’m training for the hardest race of my life to date, that I’m running the hardest I’ve ever run for my life, too.

I am taking the lessons I’m learning from training, and applying them to my life. Baby steps, trust your instincts, learn what you need to know, accept that you’re not going to get it right the first time, and that sometimes it’s going to hurt more than you think you can bear. That pain will create a protective layer where you most need it.

I’ve learned it’s okay to be out in the cold and the rain alone, not sure if I can find my way back. I’ve seen that I DO find my way back, and even if I haven’t done a stellar job, I haven’t died, and I can try again later.

And when you’re done, no matter how sloppy you got it done, stop for a moment and be PROUD of yourself.

I’ve also seen that, even though I’m taking those steps alone, I have support. If I can’t make it, a friend will come get me. My friends have cheered me on through my training, taken the time to tell me they’re proud. One friend is even coming back to the finish line when I expect to finish to witness the victory this race will be for me, even if I’m the last one that crosses.

This is true in my life as well. My friends have come forward to help me make the changes that are breaking my heart and shaking the foundation of my life. They trust that I know what I’m doing, while they are ready to help me out or hold me up when I falter.

It may take a few runs to get ready for the run of my life, and I may not do it perfectly. It might take me a few tries to run for my life, too. I won’t get that perfect either.

But I’ll get there in both cases. I won’t be first; I won’t be last, but I will get it done right for me. And when I do, in both cases, I will be so proud of myself, I bet I’ll barely be able to breathe.

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Who Will?

You held me crying my heart out
from losing my love.

who will hold me now crying my heart out
from losing your love.

~ cj

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Small Big Things (SparkPeople)

Originally posted on SparkPeople.

I have been writing, nearly non-stop, since I wrote to you here on Jan. 3rd. What I’ve written is here.  It’s also in my notebook, it’s in my correspondence with close friends. So I haven’t gone silent, although I have gone somewhat dark. I fear sharing because I know it’s hard not to soothe when someone is in pain.

I want you to know I’m okay. I’m a person who’s been at the bottom, who knows what wanting out feels like. It isn’t so hard to be there if you can find an out for the pain other than leaving. And my writing is that for me. It is the gift I find for sitting in the acid pool of ache.

My husband and I, where are we now…Our lives are so intertwined that even separation must come in layers. We haven’t started our two weeks, and yet in so many ways we have. We’ve taken baby steps towards that two weeks, tasting it, trying it out, running back. I climbed back in bed to cuddle him, so lonely for a snuggle. He asked me not to date any other, so afraid of losing my love. Neither one of us clear that we want to or can make it alone through those two weeks.

For financial reasons, and likely the ones mentioned above, we’re still in the same house, he downstairs, I up. He’s looking for work and starting a business. I’m trying to focus on work and minding my own business. We agree that right now our relationship can’t have the energy we should likely give it. We agreed to pay attention to the rest of our lives, but it’s quite clear, at least for me, this separation hasn’t gone unnoticed and unprocessed. It hasn’t been set aside, instead it’s consumed, like a fire.

My heart and my hands are so close to each other right now that there’s a pulsing rhythm in my fingers coming straight from my core. The words ooze through me with barely a thought and no resistance between them and my screen, my pencil, my hands.

It’s a career in itself grabbing it all and putting it together for examination, rumination and completion later when I’m in an edit, not create, state of mind. In the past I’ve been closed, no one sees. Hundreds of pieces, all kept to me.

I’ve been different this time, opening up, sharing more. A friend insists it has meaning to others, the world needs to hear what I have to say. How moving to believe in me so. I don’t know if it does or it doesn’t, but it can’t be a concern. It is irrelevant whether you need it or don’t because my voice can’t be quiet now that it’s learned how to scream and cry and whisper. And if it has meaning, if you need to hear, you’ll have to take what you can get in the way it comes out, because if I stop to learn how to put it together for you, I am afraid it will stop coming for me.

So for now, I’m letting it happen.

And while this writing and separating and change is happening to me, I am doing the Austin Distance Challenge and training for my first marathon. What an ironic, amazing coincidence that while I’m running for my life, I’m running for my life. And both kinds of running are so new and so painful. They steal my breath, they make me ache. They challenge me, they make me reach out to learn new things, what to drink, what to eat, who else aches like this, what can I do, who can reassure and hold me together when I’m not able to do it alone? I’ve been running on the trail and the streets, at night, in the dark, not really alone, although I feel like I am, just barely on the outskirts of others, doing something others are doing, but not so many. And isn’t that the truth of the running I’m doing in my life as well? The parallels can’t be ignored.

I’m not a woowoo girl, but I have some woowoo friends. They have one leg in my binary black and white world, and one in the world I’ve needed to see but am blind to. They bring me there when I need to be, and send me back safely to mine where I can stand on firm ground again.

One friend had me draw earth cards. She wanted to offer me angel cards, but knew I’m not able to read those, despite the insistence of some friends that I am one, albeit a bit tarnished and fallen right now. My belief on these things is like my belief in horoscopes. I believe whatever you draw applies, like a quote; there is always something to be had, something that is just right for you. I don’t believe it’s about the magic of what you draw. It’s about the magic of paying attention for some small moment to the message of what you draw. It’s not about whether the message has meaning; it’s about the meaning you give to the message.

I drew Dreamtime, Full Moon and River. These represent creation, completion, and movement. They can’t be more perfect, as I would suspect anything in that deck would be at this moment of fluctuation in my life. But the messages I got from these three are what I’m focusing on now, while I complete this part of my life, create something new, and learn to move through whatever is in front of me with as much grace and love as I can.

What I’ve been writing isn’t about my health, it’s about my life, my heart. My pain, observations, joy, fears. But what I know is that this is really what my health is all about. The inner work is always what makes the outside move through the world on the best path with ease and grace.

I love you for letting me be me. For sharing, supporting, soothing. For aching and struggling. For admitting and commiserating with me.

I will share what I’m writing with you here, if you’d like. I don’t know what to call what I’m doing. Essays, snippets, pieces, poems. The irony of this is not lost on me. I don’t know what to call what I’m doing with my life either.

I am not a crier, but I have burst into tears in the most public of places, uncontrollably sobbing and then laughing hysterically. I am trying to stand back and look and see what this is, while getting right in the water with it, both swimming and drowning at once.

I am just being and doing right now.

The smallest things seem so very big in my life. And the biggest things so small. I have to run now, in more ways than one. Tell me where you are. Tell me how you are. And know I appreciate you letting me be here with you, sharing my heart without editing my words and my thoughts.

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Chokehold

For hours I struggled in my sleep last night trying to take something off my neck. I felt like I was choking and trying to break free.

This morning I woke to find my necklace next to my bed on the night table.

And even though I can’t find my glasses this morning, I can breathe and see more clearly than I have in awhile.

~ cj 2011.01.19

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Breaking The Law

I break the law in the morning.
I break the rules all day.
I breakdown at night.

I wake up and do it again.

The cycle of life when you’ve chosen to do 80 in a 40.

~ cj 2011.01.19

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Yummy

My words feel like pieces of food on a shelf. I pick them out, rearrange them, and give them a taste as they might go down together.

And if they feel right in my mouth, on my tongue, once they pass my inspection and adjustment, once I cut them and cook them as they beckon to be, I lay them out on a plate for your viewing, consumption.

I want to see if you like the way they look, do they taste unexpected and delicious to you. And when they go down together in the way I’ve arranged, do they satisfy you.

Can you lean back and say yes, someone has reached the belly of my heart.

~ cj 2011.01.19

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How

How did we get here?
So lost from there
nowhere near the there
we were hoping to go.

i’m not sure i can possibly know.

~ cj 2011.01.19

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Layers of Adjustment

We adjust to our realities, to our lives, to our hopes, our dreams, our failures in layers.

When we are young we are horrified by the notion of things we’ll never do again because we are too old.

When we are a part of something for half our lives it is unfathomable that this person won’t be who we die near.

When we lay our heads in a space and sit in a chair and eat a meal at a table for so long we don’t remember another, we can’t imagine that this might not always be where we sleep, sit and sup.

But the ability to accept, live without and move on must be inside because as the old peels off to reveal the raw reality underneath the new skin begins drying in the air so it can nearly immediately stand some new touch without damage and shrinking away.

It all comes in layers, in baby steps without us knowing what’s next and while we learn to let go and walk forward. We don’t think we can, we may give a stumble and cry out. But each morning, each breath, each movement, our natures move us forward.

We heal, we accept, we come around, we recover.

Until we can’t and we don’t anymore.

And we accept that too.

~ cj 2011.01.19
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Not A Thing To Do But Move With You

no one ever stays up as long as i do
or sleeps as little

i can’t imagine lying down to rest
while someone moved about awake
without me coming along

my restless spirit is always seeking
moving, doing, whether there’s something worthy
or not a thing to be done.

if another were moving i would be compelled to move too
not because the movement of another was worthy of note
or of adding my companion movements to theirs

rather i would sense the other restless soul deep in my own
and rise without resistance or thought
to soothe out the rustling

or simply join in the journey of movement
not to do a thing of note
but for the worthiness of the movement alone

no one ever stays up as long as i do
or sleeps as little

until you

~cj 2011.01.18

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Let’s Just Agree

Let’s just agree
that we’ll go our separate ways
because there doesn’t seem to be enough room
on this road together.
instead of facing forward
running smooth
to our destination
we’re turned in
or turned out
in a bad alignment
thud, thud, scrape, scratch
wearing the tread off our
tires
out of balance
or slamming on the brakes
we careen out of control
or argue about directions
what to bring along
how to pack
and especially where to go

If we went our separate ways
free to choose our own paths
our own roads
our own wagons
we could go so much
faster
towards each of our dreams
free of the friction
and road hazards
that have worn
the rubber of us raw
exposing the steel belts
underneath

we wouldn’t waste time
you telling me to belt in
me calling you grandpa
for click click forgetting the blinker
your trunk wouldn’t be full
and messy with the debris of me

it doesn’t mean we can’t meet
at our destination
to review the road taken
and loved or not
but i think it makes sense for now
to get there on our own
so let’s just agree
to go our separate ways

~ cj 2011.01.12

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Artifacts

When I pull away
and look back at the artifacts
the remnants and fabric
of the life I’m leaving behind on the ground
I see a sad combination of
the hope & promise of life
I was sure would continue
mixed with the property of no purpose
and the wonder of why did I bother.

~ cj 2011.01.08

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No Thank You, I’ll Pass

walk away
stop
step back
go
leave
resist
can’t do
hang on
not yet
do without
restrain
wait
don’t mean
put off
not ready
drop back
de-escalate
later

no thank you
i’ll pass.

~ cj 2011.01.07

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A Short Essay On A Long Marriage (SparkPeople)

Originally published on SparkPeople.

I can share here, right? I’ll tell you straight out what happened.

My husband and I are separated. We got separated on January 1st, our 21st wedding anniversary. We didn’t get in a fight. It was just time for me to go at least for now. I hope if he sees this, he’s okay with me sharing. I will be careful not to say anything too personal, but as I believe my life can be an example of good and bad for others, and because my friends always help me see things better, I can’t miss what we all may gain from me sharing.

I asked for a 2 week separation.

I’ve thought a lot about marriage and staying with someone for a long time. Some days in the past year, I’ve been nearly consumed by it. When there’s so much friction you feel like you’re going to explode, you just have to get off that road for awhile. And that’s what I’m doing.

What I have to say about it would fill pages and pages. What I want to share here is just a little about some recent things.

When I talked (for 3 hours on new years eve!) to my friend/coach…we talked, among other things, about three separation buckets. a) I’m done, b) I think I’m done, c) let’s work on it so we’re not done. said there’s 3 basic separation buckets. I want to expound on what I think those three separation buckets look like.:

a) I’m done. Finished. No counselors. I might wait a little bit to get a lawyer JUST to make sure, but ugh, I don’t want to be with you anymore. You suck, I suck, we’re not gonna make it. I want to pop your head off and sh*t down your neck most days, except for an occasional reprieve. I bet you feel the same. Where’s the toilet paper, the plunger, and the handle. I need to flush.

b) I *think* I’m done. I’m not completely sure? I don’t want to go to a counselor. Right now that seems like a waste of money/time because I don’t think it will help. We’ve been down that road before, and we’ve worn the topic out. But I’m not 100% positive about where I am and where I want us to be. So I’m going to separate from you for 2 weeks. No dating, not really any talking. I want to see what my life is REALLY like without you. Is this really want I want. And is this what you want, too? I’m hoping we’ll both miss each other. Or I’m hoping we both decide we should move on without the other. Whatever we decide, I hope it’s the same for both of us, but I’m willing to take that chance either way.

c) I need some air; I’m suffocating in this, but with a little time, I think I can breathe again. Let’s get another counselor/go to another workshop. But let’s do it from separate headquarters. Let’s go to our own corners for a little while and see what can come of this because I’m pretty sure I don’t want this to be over, but we’ve got to do something cuz Bucket B is looming in the background looking pretty nice.

I’m in Bucket B. That was a hard conversation to have on the morning of our anniversary, but I figured out this is what I wanted on New Year’s Eve after talking it out with my friends and thinking about it so hard. And I want to be as honest as soon as I could, despite the fact that I’ve been lying about how I feel for awhile.

So that’s the status of that. So far, I miss him. I won’t say I don’t. I’m feeling tender and sweet towards him. I want to see him and be his friend and have him for a friend.

We had a conversation about what’s happened between us since he started his own business. We hadn’t been taking care of the relationship. Everything we had in common was wrapped up in the business, and we hated each other there. When that went away, because he left and I stayed there, I think we were fooling ourselves into thinking we’d be okay. What we forgot to do was get something going SEPARATELY that we would be drawn to TOGETHER. Instead, we hauled to our separate corners and then turned our backs. The result was this stranger that I could hardly talk to; and the same was true for him.

The marriage has a separate life. Everyone KNOWS that, but few people do anything about it. Our marriage is an example right now of what happens when you don’t. It’s not that I don’t love him, it’s not that he doesn’t love me. But we don’t have anything to do together, and after all the other issues, we’re not so clear we want to find anything.

Two weeks doesn’t seem like a long time, but then again, it feels like forever. In two weeks, some of the anger will wear off if there is some. In two weeks someone will be missed if there’s some missing to be done. In two weeks, there’s some amnesia about the exact minutiae that led to the break, and hopefully there’s some growth and awareness about the underlying causes.

We’ll see what our two weeks brings. So far, I haven’t been very good about being alone. I’ve been hanging out with friends, sitting on Facebook, going to public places. I haven’t faced anything, really. And when I do, it’s painful, and raw and wrenching. So I write it down in aching, acidic poems, and then put my pen away and go out.

I want to say two things about marriage in general right now. First, the idea of staying with another until death do us part, when you think about it, is rather odd, and not very practical. Mind you, I’m not trying to justify divorce; I’m not trying to justify my request for separation. I’m merely thinking about the institution. A friend pointed out to me that marriage is the ONLY agreement that has no end clause other than death built into it. You have to get ANOTHER agreement in place to get rid of this one. I’ve noticed the contract isn’t specific enough to be enforced either. And the vows are our own to make. They’re not part of that agreement, and don’t have to be the same. Each side makes the same agreement, too. Isn’t that odd? I’ll be just like you; as if they were the same person. Can that even happen?

Apparently, marriage was created at a time when the average length of one was 9 years. Women died in child birth, men died in the fields, or in wars. But now, marriages can last a very long time. But the people in them change, grow, turn out to be different people than they could possibly envision when it all begins. Maybe this all works out, and it remains a fit, but often it doesn’t. This is fodder for a long essay on its own, so I will get off that topic for now.

The other main thing I wanted to say is this, and this is strictly my opinion/observation. I think that when you initially marry, you usually marry someone you can relate to from a status/background fit kind of way…Someone you have a lot of stuff in common with from a more surface place. We both like red, we both love chinese, our parents were both alcoholics. Sometimes you marry the other side of the tracks, but it’s unusual. That’s why you hear about it. Sometimes you marry for idealogy, foundation core belief reasons.

But who initially talks about all the processes, language, conflict management stuff that should REALLY be talked about before you get married the first time? (Often the second time, too!) It’s a rare marriage, I would bet. You want to have sex all the time, you want to hang out all the time, you seem to get along great, you get married. Long term fit isn’t something you can even imagine because you don’t know who you’re going to be.

A BUNCH and I mean a BUNCH of my friends are having marriage issues right now. BTW, cheating has been the catalyst of the breakup in most of the cases, too. Why? Someone who cheats after 20 years when they’ve never cheated before isn’t just a cad or a slut. They’re cheating because they’re aching, seeking, missing something they truly need. It’s a dance, and there’s nearly always blame on both sides.

Maybe they’re looking for someone else, or wanting out, because NOW they have all the stuff figured out that they couldn’t figure out before, now they know how to do this. They (think) they know how to run a relationship, they believe they have the skills. And they want to use those skills and simply can’t where they are. The hole is too deep in the one they’re in, or they haven’t come to the same conclusions, or developed compatible skills. There’s not always cheating, but it’s amazing the number of long term relationships I’ve heard about in the past few months that ended this way. In any case, back to the kind of relationship I think someone looks for when they’re in my age range.

If the people have learned from that failed marriage, I believe their new relationships (if they’re healthy) have something different in common. At that point, new single people they meet are unlikely to have the same backgrounds and tastes in common. They’re fully formed, opinionated, people with families, backgrounds, careers, entanglements. They’re much more complex. When they’re drawn to that new person (again if they’re healthy I think), they’re drawn because they have similar processes, they get the importance of agreement about how to manage conflict, how to talk to each other. They know it’s more important to talk about what does and doesn’t work. And I bet they pony up to the table admitting their faults and favs way sooner. They don’t want to f*ck up and fail again. Life’s short, and they likely feel they can’t make TOO many mistakes before you get put on the back shelf in a warehouse as un-sellable merchandise, so to speak.

I think the reason it ends up being impossible to use these skills and establish this level of communication back in the original relationship, is because the wagon wheels ruts have gotten so deep that you just have no choice if you want to move forward, but to get out of the wagon and get on a new path. Sure, you have more baggage, but at least you can roll a little easier now because you know better how to steer.

Surprising things can happen when you take a new road. Sometimes two weeks is enough to let the ruts fill partially back in so the wagon can make forward movement. Sometimes, though, the new road in separate wagons is now clearly the better choice. My hope is, for my husband and I, that whatever way it goes, we’re at least in agreement on whether it’s best to keep or get out of the wagon we’re in.

Thank you for letting me share this with you. I chose to put this here because you are my friends. I know that many of my friends are of the same age as me, and I know for sure some of you are struggling. I’m not looking for sympathy; I’m hoping instead we can all share this kind of wisdom and pain, and think and talk with each other about it.

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I Like Your Name

I like your nickname,
Rome.
I don’t know where you got it,
or why you wanted to use it.
I’m not asking.
That’s for you to share.

But I can’t help guessing
and enjoying the game.

Maybe you wanted to hide
right out in the open.

If that’s why you did that,
I get that.
Me, too.
I’m an extrovert everywhere,
but I’m not really out there.
I want to choose
who really knows who I am.
And it’s always changing anyway.
Are you like that, too?

Maybe you just didn’t like your name.
If that’s why you did that,
I get that.
Me, too.
I didn’t like my name either.
It never belonged to me, really.
It wasn’t my birth name
and it never fit me.
So I changed it,
much like I’m trying to change my life
and who I am,
By changing it,
I hoped I’d erase the wrong name
and with it,
the wrong person forever.
Are you like this, too?

Can I tell you?
I don’t really like
the name I gave you
Justin
I don’t like many other things
I gave you
And did to you
either.

I like that you’ve found
a way to be
separate from that,
bigger than that.
Renaming to move on,
Whatever the reason.

I don’t like that name,
Justin.
It doesn’t fit you.
It doesn’t mean anything.
And there are too many others who have it.

You’re unique.
You should own something all your own.
But it should be something strong
That speaks to the world.

Rome does.
Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Sometimes it crumbles, and it’s messy.
But mostly it’s strong and manly
Filled with the struggles of history
And the strength of our stories.

It’s held the battles of the worlds on its grounds
And it’s been the home to the heart of the gods.
Everything human and inhuman,
worldly, and heavenly,
whatever ones perception of heaven is,
can be found in Rome.

You were the boy
my friend swore one day
had the soul of the old
The world at his feet,
the gods filling his heart.
You are the world.
You’re all the world to me.

Rome fits you.

~ mom 2010.12.30

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Early To Bed

I go to bed early
Hoping sleep will rescue me
From the banal idiocy
And false accusations
That are my every evening

I squeeze my eyes shut fast
Hoping to grind to a halt
Or at least quickly slow
My mind’s whirling frustration

Trying to force, suck, pull,
The covers over my minds eye
Cursing how I’ve wasted
More of life’s precious moments

I pray, even though
I don’t believe in a god
And never find
Any peace in my dreams

That tonight, blessed sleep
Comes painlessly
And it does
After only pulling away twice
And without medication

But as you are now witness
It sneaks back away too soon
Like the sea
Before an undeniably deadly tsunami

Unexpectedly and completely
Exposing the raw floor
With its litter and shells
And spiny urchins

Leaving me cursing loudly
And fleeing frantically
Failing miserably
And flailing against
The false security blanket
I was desperately hoping
Would rock me
For enough hours
At least somewhat gently
Until the morning ship
could came in
And I’d be rescued to sail away

Escaping to the island
of my daily insanity
So preferable to this
Horror of banal idiocy and
False accusations
That is my every evening

~ cj. 2010.12.27 12:08am

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Hands Down

I do have strong hands
They take care of me
They watch out for others.

They play music
With or without an instrument.

They express my thoughts
They make a point,
And write a poem.

They hold onto life
And what they love tightly.
They shove what hurts
Or I’m finished with
Vehemently out
of my view.

They get pinched sometimes
And sometimes they pinch me back.
A few months ago one of them
punched me so hard
repetitively
in frustration
that my thigh was bruised
from hip to knee.
Can you be okay with knowing
they did that to me?

My hands fly to my face
Flutter to my heart to protect me.

They wring themselves
in an attempt to get answers,
Or worry through the inevitable.

They wipe away tears,
mine, or yours if you shed them.

They scratch their way out
And they’ve been extra busy lately
trying to claw their way up.

They pet furry, soft creatures
And squish doggie faces to my lips.

They are the owners
of many clumsy messes
and dirty fingernails.

They snap memories constantly
And type as nimbly as I think.

They clench in anger
And spread open for life.

And although they are strong
One day they’ll shake hands
with Death
firmly gripping
or maybe weakly grasping

Their work will conclude
and someone else
will take over,
folding them together
and laying them down
forever in peace.

~ cj 2010.12.24

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Leaving

Is it too much
Getting in here
And finding I’ve left you a mess?

Random
Whatever comes to mind
Blurted out to you

It’s a lot
For a stranger
To pile this at your feet

But my heart senses
That what heals you
May be caring for what I can leave.

~ cj 2010.12.23

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How Dare You

how dare you
violate our friendship
and me
by taking more than I offered
without asking
or even explaining

making me feel so awkward
and unsure
of the violations’s very existence
that I keep silent
allowing the unwanted affection
to continue
because I don’t know any better
what to do

and most of all
because I don’t know how to stop
you from that
without stopping you from liking me, too.

how dare you
violate our friendship
and me
by then naming me as involved
without asking or explaining

twisting the truth till I feel so ashamed
and guilty
of the violation’s very existence
that I keep my silence
allowing the undeserved blame
to continue
because I don’t know
any better what to do

and most of all
because I don’t know how to stop
you from that
without stopping me from losing you, too.

how dare you?

~ cj 2010.12.18

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Haley Bailey

you were so close in my dream!
i just got to pet you,
you can’t imagine the thrill
or the comfort
and although i could never quite
look in your gold eyes
i picked you up and held you close
kissing your muzzle, your side
your little ears
inhaling your scent
mmmm, you’re still so yummy
in my mind

and you were free,
not tied on a leash
and i could run
not just walk
we were by the ocean
you and i and
maggie and rip
and some other doggie

you were exploring
everything
everywhere
so happy just to be
just to exist

we were on our way home
slowly makin our way
exploring every little
nook and cranny
stopping to smell and then
bounding to the next excitement
but then, suddenly, my dream ended
and just like in my
real life
we never quite made it home that day

instead i woke, reaching for you
to pet you again
to snuggle and nuzzle you
my beautiful friend
and my heart broke again
in a million pieces
to remember you’re
not there
and won’t ever be again

thank you, though,
for the visit to my dreams
i needed that,
however brief
however painful.
you were so beautiful
and made my life so rich
and it was so nice
to see you again
even if it was only
in my dreams

~ cj 2004.08.27

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Worry

it’s raining
and it’s my heart’s desire
as it has always been
to protect you
even now
when it’s far too late

so i rush out to your grave
to cover it in plastic
i put rocks on it
to hold down the plastic
and worry just a little
about how heavy they are

and while i’m there
i lay down on the mound
that holds you
in its depths
and i pretend
that i’m laying
by your side
like i did
just four weeks ago

the part of me
that refuses to accept
what has happened
also worries
that you’re maybe hot
or thirsty
or lonely
out here on your own

and while i’m lying there
i worry about me
just a little, too
how long will i keep trying
to protect you
from things that can’t
possibly harm you anymore

is this worry
so desperate
because i failed
to protect you
from the harm
that’s now left you
out in the rain
and me helpless to
ever protect you
from anything again
no matter the strength of
my worry?

~ cj 2004.08.21

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Sad Going

Our hearts are sad,
not for us
because you’ve gone,
but for you,
because of where you’re going.

~ cj 2004.03.29

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Dreaming

halfway between last night and tomorrow is my dream
dying to tell me some truth about my life
that’s too painful to come straight out and admit
speaking in symbols and metaphors
working hard to drive home the point
of my foolishness, sadness, stupidity
gripping me tight by my bony wrist
until there’s no twisting away from my pain
forcing me to take at least a glance
and many times a long hard look
toward where I really live in my heart.
my eyes are shut tight but that doesn’t stop
the images from burning through
from the inside of my eyes where they live
there will be no filtering them away
my only salvation when the image becomes too clear
that it makes my heart ache and scream
is that my dream, when it knows I can bear no more
releases me, hurling me into tomorrow
with a venomous start
leaving me to consider that same pain
with my eyes wide open
the meaning of the symbols and metaphors
focused twenty-twenty in the morning sunrise
welcoming me to the truth of my day.

~ cj 2003.03.24

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Offerings

taking pennies
in Sunday offerings
from little boys
to put in coffers
for feeding those
who take souls
from little boys
who put their pennies
in Sunday offerings.

~ cj 2002.12.31

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Half A Life Later

today,
half a life later
comes the first time
i take out the pain.
strong enough to seek,
willing to consider
a long buried truth;
the impact of
the profound loss of
you.

half a life later
i recognize
your rejection,
your abandonment
has formed who i am;
my private heart kept from others.
i can trace it all back to
the profound loss of
you.

half a life later
i still hate your failings.
you should have hurried
to be my friend.
rather you dug, clawed, hurt me.
but i wasn’t the enemy.
i wasn’t the cause of
the profound loss of
you.

half a life later
i see it can’t be
as i’ve always believed;
it can’t be that you chose to go,
gave up on purpose, too easy,
leaving me young, bewildered,
aching, angry from
the profound loss of
you.

half a life later
i suspect a high cost
for considering that
losing the war of black death
was not your choice.
but i can’t bear the pain
if i remove your blame for
the profound loss of
you.

and now,

half a life later
i am surprised by raw pain
i thought was buried so deep
it would’ve surely dissolved.
but it’s resurfaced, alive,
obstructing clear view,
refusing to let me ignore
the profound loss of
you.

half a life later
with no warning it comes,
twisting my heart round to see,
showing me it has life,
pointing to the hole,
i thought i’d covered,
but instead i find gaping with
the profound loss of
you.

half a life later
my heart sees that i am
not really better
because i escaped.
instead, by leaving the pain,
i lost the possible,
forever unknown to me for denying
the profound loss of
you.

half a life later
i now must allow
that after i’d grown
on my own and come home,
we’d have loved, laughed, said sorry
and been strong for each other
had it not been for
the profound loss of
you.

half a life later
i must also accept
that it is for me on my own
to do what we would have together;
to laugh, love and say sorry,
living what’s left of my life without grudge,
strong and open in spite of, because of
the profound loss of
you.

but before i do, you must know

half a life later
i can finally say from my heart
that i miss who we might have been
given the chance.
and i wish i had missed you more often
and forgiven your leaving,
instead of burying deep
the profound loss of
you.

to my mom,
who died half my lifetime ago.
~ cj 2002.12.02

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Moving On

When someone moves out,
moves on from my life
I frantically clean
after they depart
move furniture around
change how rooms look
here and there, big and small,
discard and replace
rearrange my belongings
so they look refreshingly new
vary what I’m doing
so I feel more interesting
to make it look as if I’ve
moved on, too
so when they come back
if they do,
I won’t look stagnant
just because I haven’t gone anywhere.

~ cj 2002.12.12

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Empty Room

downstairs,
just under my office,
where i now work hard
to fill my empty life,
are two rooms,
also empty,
that i can hardly
bear to enter.

if there were any way at all,
i’d burn them off my house.
collapse this floor down.
replace those rooms
with this one,
as if that emptiness
never existed.

i would destroy them, hoping
the emptiness and pain
in my heart
would suddenly subside
with the disappearance of
those two empty rooms.

i try to fill them,
and succeed
for a short time,
with young people who
bring those rooms
and my heart back to life.

while they are here,
i visit them often,
taking pictures with my mind
so later, after they move on,
i can remember them
in my heart
and in those two empty rooms.

hoping those memories
will make me forget
that the person
they really belong to
has gone forever,
leaving those two rooms
and my heart
empty of the only life
that ever really filled them.

~ cj 2002.12.12

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Flooding

memories

    flooding
        seeping
            oozing
                creeping

    lurking
        leaking
            slithering
                sneaking

    grating
        mocking
            harassing
                shocking

    haunting
        nagging
            biting
                dragging

    gnawing
        worming
            clutching
                storming

    draining
        gushing
            thrashing
                pushing

    choking
        stunning
            stabbing
                running

    flying
        rushing
            racing
                crushing

    beating
        savaging
            kicking
                ravaging

    pummeling
        battering
            pounding
        shattering

unsought

    bringing
        maddening
            wringing

    gripping
        grasping
            gnashing
                gasping

    stinging
        seething
            writhing
                screaming

    gouging
        marring
            damaging
                scarring

    suffering
        severing
            reeling
                unravelling

    blistering
        burning
            boiling
                yearning

    stammering
        stumbling
            falling
                fumbling

    moaning
        sighing
            uttering
                crying

    mourning
        moaning
            trembling
                groaning

    shaking
        shivering
            weakening
                wavering

    murmuring
        aching
            bleeding
                shaking

    weeping
        wailing
            whimpering
                failing

    faltering
        shrinking
            teetering
                sinking

awakening
grieving
hardening
leaving

searching
stammering
clawing
clammering

absorbing
agonizing
abandoning
realizing

reckoning
recovering
seeking
surviving

finding
meaning
conceding
beginning

finally

            freeing
        accepting
    seeing

                admitting
            overcoming
        learning
    becoming

                adjusting
            coping
        allowing
    hoping

                healing
            growing
        changing
    knowing

                releasing
            forgiving
        returning
    to living.

~cj 2002.12.11

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Fountains of Youth

skipping, jumping, hopping
streams of water
in a fountain
like small children
playing hide seek
in one side
and out the other
always seem
so very different
like no pattern
quite deceiving
but they always
slowly return
if you stand there
long enough
yet the next time
subtle difference
water moves
in many ways
stays the same
yet always changing
watch the cycle
start again

~ cj 2002.12.11

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Protected: Their Bits

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No Feelings!

do you remember
shrieking “no feelings!”?
in my face
in my ear
shoving my heart
across the room
of our life
pushing it down
kicking it hard
slicing right through
creating a small,
whimpering,
tail-tucked puppy
out of the soft, tender heart
I had presented to you
at your birth.

the pain
after the others
was too great.
i had to protect
pull back, leave
gather close,
my trampled,
bruised, bloody heart
go away
somewhere safe
to recover.

but an odd thing
unexpected
has happened
as my heart
did its best
to survive.
it just
couldn’t heal
enough to conceal
the damage you’d done.

you can now see
the obvious wound
a pink, twisted scar
an up and down limp
but most pronounced
it now has a voice
that shrieks
in my face
in my ear
“no feelings!”

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Clean

when you leave
i inhale deeply
the delicious clean
you’ve left behind
your presence lingers
for days after you’re gone

it’s not just the clean
that you leave behind
you’ve also left me
a little strength
and a smile that enjoyed
us sharing.

you compliment freely
and admire openly
when it is you
who should be admired
for your character
and uncomplaining ways

i like your open nature
that understands
the purity
of getting up early
working hard
then sleeping deep

i like the humble in you
mixed well with pride
you’re new to me
and i’m curious
your life so different
yet similar to mine.

so i inhale deeply
and walk through my rooms
smiling at the scents
and the sense
that you’ve left behind
for me to ponder and enjoy

to catherine
written in the clean breeze
just after she left
~ cj 2002.12.03

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How Is It Fair?

On 19 August, a Sharia court of appeal in Funtua, Katsina State, Nigeria, took the decision to uphold the sentence of death by stoning imposed on Amina Lawal.

how is it fair
that i should pay
with my life
for giving life
to our love?
while you are spared
because you deny
what can be proven true
but won’t be
because you are
in control
by virtue of
nothing more
than luck

~ cj 2002.12.02

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DamneD

dead
deceived
decomposed
decreased
decried
defaced
defamed
defeated
defenseless
deficient
defied
defiled
dejected
deluded
demolished
demonized
demoralized
depressed
deprived
derided
deserted
despised
destroyed
desultory
detached
detested
detracted
devastated
devoid
devoured
diminished
diminutive
dirty
disappointed
disapproved
discharged
disclaimed
disconcerted
disconnected
discontiguous
discontinued
discouraged
discredited
disdained
disengaged
disfigured
disinherited
disintegrated
disjoined
disliked
dislodged
dismantled
dismayed
dismissed
disowned
disparaged
dispatched
dispelled
dispensed
dispersed
displaced
dispossessed
disregarded
disreputed
disrespected
disrupted
distanced
distorted
distressed
disturbed
divided
doubted
downcast
downhearted
downtrodden
drab
dragged
drained
dropped
dumped
duped
dwindled
dying

dead-on descriptions of my daily deteriorated disposition since you discarded me.

~ cj 2002.11.25

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Mother’s Ache

It’s so sad to see
a young girl,
full of promise and future,
already agreeing
to tolerate unimaginable pain
by giving her heart to a boy
who can say the same to another
that he says to the girl,
who can push himself
inside another
in a remorseless heartbeat
without a backward glance,
without a second’s regard to the
torturous rip it makes
in your tender soul.

the heartache, the sadness
the hopelessness
of watching her beloved baby
slip down the drain
agreeing to take the pain
must be more than your mother’s flesh can take.
how it must make her ache.

~ 2002.11.22

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Little Man

on my desk is a little man
with a teal green coat and a flag in his hands
he says “ho, ho” like he’s having fun
but I gotta say, he’s the only one

he came at christmas bringing cheer
he didn’t know he’d be living here
where life is hard and smiles hurt bad
hearts are broken and we’re all sad

my boy and i went out like elves
and saw a fairy on the shelf
but when he went to get the prize
he found it had caught someone else’s eyes

so he bought instead the little man
with the ho ho ho, and the flag in his hands
quite a job for him to make us merry
bet he wishes we’da bought the fairy

~ cj 2002.05.15

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The Only Place

I found this poem on 3.4.04. It was written on 3.27.01

the only place i can see you,
the only way i can touch you,
the only way we can be there again,
is in my mind.
I remember when you were so small that you fit in a paperbag.
I remember when your whole arm fit in my hand.
I remember you running to me at daycare
each day with your little chubby arms outstretched
to get a great big hug.
I remember your drooly kisses and the way you clung to me
like we were drifting at sea.
I remember how scared you were if you thought I was lost.

In my mind I told myself I could move on to your next day,
your next birthday, your next grade.
I told myself I was anxious for you to grow up,
to be less dependent and needy, so I could be less encumbered.

I loved when you were little, but I loved it as you changed, too.
I got frustrated when it wasn’t fast enough, when you needed me too
much.
There were many times when I realized how fast time was going, and
I wished it to go slower.
But I couldn’t think about it much – it hurt
too deeply to realize how much had gone by.

When you live somewhere precious, but you have to move, you console
yourself by saying “I can always go back there”.
I think I’ve always done that with you.

Only you’re not a place, you’re my son.
And we didn’t move from a place but on in time.
Now the only place I can see you so small,
The only place I can touch the curly hair on your little head,
The only place I can lift you from your chair while
you wrap your legs around me,
The only place I can go where you still need me
and love me
is in my mind.

~ cj 2001.03.27

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Real Gold

Once you had it all in my eyes.
The gold and beauty of you sparkled
just beyond my reach.
How desperate I became
grasping for a mirage,
a fantasy I desired
with all my heart to be real.

Now you have nothing,
no beauty, no gold,
and you don’t have me.
I have chosen to leave my feet
planted forever and firmly on this rock.
It’s not beautiful,
it’s not gold.
but it’s real.

~ cj 1996.07.23

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