The New Old Me

Old post/new post time.

I'm wanting to get back at this, but am a little crunched for time. In my charming, OCD way, I'd wanted to begin posting again where I left off last year, on January 7th. I thought it would be poetic and right.

That didn't happen.

But, because I:

a) don't want to seem unpoetic,
b) wrong, and
c) don't want to wait one more year to try this again, I'll just pretend that it's still the 7th somewhere.

Because I've really missed writing.

And I've missed you.

And you, and you and you.

Yes, even you.

So, with some added comments in glorious technocolor puce, I present to you the new old me.

*********************************
January 6th, 2011/January 8th, 2012

Well.

Hello there!

It has been far too long, my babies. It has been, and I'm a little at a loss as to what to say.

Not that I have anything outstanding to say, or anything even vaguely interesting, for that matter. I just got tired of seeing my last post. I should at least have something au courant, non? November is SO last year. As is January. 2011.

I assure you, reader(s), that I'm still here. As for the cybersquatters, be gone with you. (take your weblinks and thoughtless comments)(and leave the furniture - that ottoman has sentimental value). On second thought, take the ottoman - I've decided to go in an entirely new direction- New World Amish.

What have I been up to? Well, I have been entrenched since September, studying away, with the intention of becoming a card-carrying Yoga Teacher. And lookee here, I am one. So when I tell you to breath (in AND out), you've got to listen. Because I'm a pro-fesh-inn-ell, darling.

And while it has been fascinating and exciting, it has been a humongous time-suck. Even more than facebook (really). (really)

(yes, that IS possible)

(who knew?) (I guess I did, but didn't want to be all braggy-like)

As a result of my single-tasking, my house is a toss; our dog gleefully thinks that the dust bunnies that have accumulated under the couches are new canine companions (I'm not about to break his little heart & tell him the truth). House is still a toss, dog has moved beyond courtship rituals and is now into husbandry with said dust bunnies.

My routines are no more; they've given way for new routines that I must somehow shoehorn in to the existing ones, to create complicated labyrinthine processes.

Our once-mindful food plan has given way to far more take-out than I care to discuss, and we've all suffered thusly. Urp.

To wit, I believe that I'm still trying to digest New Year's Eve dinner - I feel like I've got an intact block of Gruyere cheese wedged in my esophagus. Gah. This year, I rang in the New Year w/my menfolk in a faraway land - less cheese, more rummy drinks. Double Gah.

Yet, with all the kvetching, I am still bordering on euphoric. Because finally, after such a really, really long time along a really, really long path, I think I have found the thing I was meant to do.
I have always been envious of those people who do what they love, and now I think that I just might be one of them.

After what seems like forever of turning inward to imagine that breezy beach in Hawaii, that verdant forest, that still morning lake, I realize that where I am - the here and the now - is my new happy place.

I know it sounds kind of Pollyanna-like, but I can see joy again.

After a difficult few years, I am ready, willing and able to own up to my happiness. I don't need to qualify it, or temper it with stories of struggle or sadness like I usually do. I no longer feel the need to feel guilty about it.

It just is.

And it is (still) quite spectacular.

Thoughtful Thursday

" The body itself is a screen
to shield and partially reveal the light
that's blazing inside your presence."
Rumi

One of the elements of this blog that I hold very dear to my heart is Thoughtful Thursdays.

Oftentimes, the quote will jump out and make it presence known. Things I've read a million times before, songs from the soundtrack of life - there is some sort of weird cosmic confluence that makes them shout out to be heard. It is quite an electrifying moment, and I am only too happy to oblige.

Sometimes, though, I have to search. I came to realize today, as I was poring over textbooks and reference books, that this mere act of searching is in and of itself also electrifying. It's like searching for treasure. There's the anticipation, there's the turning over & examination of the turn of phrase or well-placed word, and then there's that joy of discovery.

Today - the word that sparkled and glistened in the light of day was 'blazing'.

What an amazing and powerful word.

Show of hands - how many of us truly think that inside of us is a blazing magnificence?

I believe we all have it.

And I also believe that it is, indeed, blazing.

But why are we shielding it? Why are we obscuring it from sight?

And what do we need to do to share it? Is action required? Or merely a choice?

I, for one, am all about the shiny.

Tell me one thing about how brilliant you are - I really want to see behind that screen.

My New Happy Place

Well.

Hello there!

It has been far too long, my babies.

Not that I have anything outstanding to say, or anything even vaguely interesting, for that matter. I just got tired of seeing my last post. I should at least have something au courant, non? November is SO last year.

I assure you, reader(s), that I'm still here. As for the cybersquatters, be gone with you. (take your weblinks and thoughtless comments)(and leave the furniture - that ottoman has sentimental value).

What have I been up to? Well, I have been entrenched since September, studying away, with the intention of becoming a card-carrying Yoga Teacher.

And while it has been fascinating and exciting, it has been a humongous time-suck. Even more than facebook (really).

(yes, that IS possible)

(who knew?)

As a result of my single-tasking, my house is a toss; our dog gleefully thinks that the dust bunnies that have accumulated under the couches are new canine companions (I'm not about to break his little heart & tell him the truth).

My routines are no more; they've given way for new routines that I must somehow shoehorn in to the existing ones, to create complicated labyrinthine processes.

Our once-mindful food plan has given way to far more take-out than I care to discuss, and we've all suffered thusly.

To wit, I believe that I'm still trying to digest New Year's Eve dinner - I feel like I've got an intact block of Gruyere cheese wedged in my esophagus. Gah.

Yet, with all the kvetching, I am still bordering on euphoric. Because finally, after such a really, really long time along a really, really long path, I think I have found the thing I was meant to do.
I have always been envious of those people who do what they love, and now I think that I just might be one of them.

After what seems like forever of turning inward to imagine that breezy beach in Hawaii, that verdant forest, that still morning lake, I realize that where I am - the here and the now - is my new happy place.

I know it sounds kind of Pollyanna-like, but I can see joy again.

After a difficult few years, I am ready, willing and able to own up to my happiness. I don't need to qualify it, or temper it with stories of struggle or sadness like I usually do. I no longer feel the need to feel guilty about it.

It just is.

And it is quite spectacular.