Progress

Wonder where it went
Easy days when asked what
Was my struggle, and blithely
With shrugging shoulders
I would say, nothing

Years it took to purge
Bullshit answers and law
Find rest in questions and doubt
So much healing but
Still a refugee

With rueful longing
Steal subtle glimpses, times
I allow myself to hope,
To revel in joy
As much as sadness


As I lay in bed last night, I heard a train groaning as it made its way across the tracks. It made me think of Dewayne Wood and the kind of man he was teaching my husband to be before he died. It made me think about Steve and how he made Red Mountain such a safe place for me. It made me think of how sometimes I think people draw near to Brian Murphy, Cal Morris and Clint because of some unseen magnetism. Its a knowledge without answers, and a patience that grows and long-suffers. Its love, and it is so much more than most can bear.

I'm sitting at my desk today and all I can think is that I only have a few more hours until I can hang out with Heather Morris. She is one of a small group of people on this earth that mere proximity makes me feel understood, heard, and even saner. Heather told me that when she first met me she didn't like me. I love that. I asked her what turned her around, and she said it was my honesty. The more I think about all the relationships in my life that are so precious to me, I realize that they were all born out of unabashed honesty - and I really really like that.

That's all for now. Just trying to get out a longing that just won't let me go. 3 more hours.

I'll be waiting with a gun and pack of sandwiches

My new neighbor was held up at gunpoint getting out of her car on New Year's Eve and it got me to thinking:

1) I definitely need to be more vigilant than I have been - especially getting in and out of my car.

2) I think its really important for women to learn ways to empower themselves. And I don't mean this in a penis-envy, macho sort of way - quite the contrary. I think one of womens' greatest faults is that we does not know our own strength and don't trust ourselves, our intuitions and our ability to perform under extreme duress. It got me to thinking about all the emotions I had the first time I went to the shooting range. I was nervous and scared... not because I expected some basketcase to decide I would make a nice target, but because I didn't trust myself. "Will I be able to handle the kickback? Will I drop the gun? Will I accidentally shoot myself?". I think these are all very reasonable and appropriate thoughts to entertain the first time you handle a killing machine (which is what a gun is). There's a gravity to it that must be respected. But it was a pivotal moment for me when I picked up that gun, squeezed off a couple rounds and realized that I had nothing to be afraid of. There was no crazy kickback. I didn't drop the gun. My hands firmly enveloped the handle and my finger squeezed the trigger and a nice little hole appeared on the pristine target for which I was aiming. I was no longer a victim to my own fear.

Back to my neighbor - poor thing was just so upset. The guy got away with everything: keys, wallet, cellphone. She refused to come back to the house until the locks were changed and she had gone and gotten herself a rottweiler/german shepherd mix.

It got me to thinking: how can I be a help to the women in my community? How can I make them feel more empowered and less like victims? They say a predator takes note of the way a women carries herself and will not try to subdue one who looks confident and self-assured, but only ones who look like they won't put up a fight.

So I organized a trip to the shooting range and put in on Facebook and invited some of my lady friends. I went and bought a couple boxes of bullets and arranged for my friend David to come along as an instructor and we made a trip to the FOP range in Pleasant Grove this afternoon. Elisa, Liza, Krys, and Nicole had all never shot a pistol before so we started off with .22's and .25's and moved up calibers as everyone was comfortable.









As you can see from the targets below - everyone did great. I'm hoping to organize another trip for the spring.

Love is the Answer, and You Know That for Sure

I listened to the most depressing songs in a row (I think ever) last night. For about 2 hours I walked around my house taking a mental inventory of every ache, feeling all the sadness to a soundtrack of Love is Hell, 1,000 Kisses, and All That You Can't Leave Behind.

Sometimes you just gotta let yourself bleed you know?

And then when I was done, I started organizing. Because that's the natural progression of pain right?

My world has been in a zillion different directions lately. I have been doing a lot of lying to myself about how much I would miss Clint and how sad I am that he's going to be on the road. Why do I do that? I'm trying to be "strong" for him and all I end up doing is collecting sorrow and hurt until I explode.

And why does being strong look like not telling him I'm going to miss him or showing even a hint of sadness?

This is one of my more ingrained pieces of baggage [read: bullshit] that continually irks me even though we've gone through these steps a dozen times.

But what can you do? You explode into the loving arms of your husband for the zillionth time. He holds you as you cry and tells you its ok to be sad. You feel that sting of embarrassment for falling apart. But then you realize that you're married to a wonderful man who is there to pick up all the messy pieces and you think - maybe I will remember this next time.

Maybe.