Lay in bed this morning with not a fiber of my being wanting to get up.
I am in a funk of all time funks for a myriad of reasons. But life goes on.
Laundry was skipped last weekend due to my tooth pain – blah, blah, blah – I’m so over talking about that. But, fact is, I had to do laundry today.
I milled about the house, crawled back into bed. Found myself watching ‘The Shahs of Sunset’ reunion show on Bravo. What the hell? I don’t even watch the show – no clue who the people were. But evidently, reaching for the remote and changing the channel wasn’t in the cards.
Get up Amanda.
I sat outside.
I haven’t been reading as often lately, tried to read a few pages. Haven’t picked up a paint brush in a while either, nor my camera.
“Go do laundry, and take some pictures” a voice in my head told me. From where I sat, I could see fog over the river – the mountains looked beautiful.
Okay. Get dressed and just DO IT!
So I did it. Shoved our laundry into a couple of washing machines and took myself and my camera off for some quality time.
Heads up – I’m the Queen of zoom and crop. Whereas, my son captures a subject and leaves in the surroundings, whether aesthetically pleasing or not, and his photos end up amazing. I love that about him. He doesn’t edit life. I just have a problem not editing my mouth.
Without further ado:
The reason I took my camera. Fog is rare here in the desert. It called to me. The Colorado River creates it from time to time, and every time it does, its gorgeous.
Decay and growth. I loved the juxtaposition of the two.
And here too. The area I was shooting in is prone to fires. The tree in the back obviously burned and the new growth in the foreground just made such a pleasing image.
Love the curl of this metal.
Beauty and the desert beast
The reservations irrigation system.
Looked like a mirror – or a framed picture to me
Gawd I loved these
Spent shell – wonder what was on the receiving end of this?
He’s a rocks rock
On my knees in rams head weeds to get this shot, pretty sure I have a couple of puncture wounds – but worth it
Home now – this little guy is growing through the steps. I won’t go into that metaphor. But I was proud of it and that little flower inspires me.
On the way home from the laundromat a song came on that for that very moment in time, couldn’t have been more apropos. Every word spoke to me. And I don’t know when this funk will break – but I know it will. I know this. But I’m nothing if not authentic, and I never ‘fake it til I make it’. I’m not going to plaster a smile on my face. I don’t feel like smiling just yet. I have big decisions to make, big changes to consider and time is slipping by quickly. I am sad, scared, 50 shades of blue and deep in thought. But life is still beautiful. I am still grateful. And tomorrow is another day.
Here’s that song.
I’m going there. Yes I am. I’m not afraid. It’s a natural part of life.
We have reached a tender, special bonding milestone in my home. Mother and son both have to start tending to their facial hair! Awwww!
What the heck? It seems like overnight! My wake up call was the rear view mirror of my car. The mirror in my bathroom is deceivingly dim. I knew I had hair on my upper lip … but it was fine and blonde. Damn rear view mirror. Mirror of truth. Mirror of age reveal. Magic, stupid, daylight mirror!
So now the conundrum of which route to take for my beard and moustache!
I’m still deciding. Obviously I don’t want to shave! Do I want to be a waxing girl? Tweeze? Hair removal cream?
I don’t want to do any of them!
For this particular sign ‘o the times – I would wish the clock back.
I barely have eyebrows! Never have had to groom them. I guess my face was saving all its energy for my chin?
If I was already in my mumu calling my 15 cats to their dinner bowls, I’d just say f#@* it. But I do still have to leave the house.
Was about to take Nic to a party when this little convo went down.
Nic: Mom … you have – um – a moustache thing here (Points to the right side of the corner of my mouth)
Me: Yeah – I know. I haven’t decided how to handle it
Nic: (Laughing) Well go shave!!!
I think it was probably the first time he was embarrassed at the idea of leaving the house with me.
Well get used to it baby – because I believe arm flaps are next – and I’m not wearing long sleeves in the Summer.
I’ve put this off – taking people’s feelings into consideration. But it’s time.
I felt brave this week – wearing the brighter lipstick, the eye makeup. As a rule, I only wear rice powder, light mascara a little color on my cheeks and a swipe of lipstick.
I wanted to try something different.
I even wore a beautiful large necklace on Monday – I felt like I had a neon sign over my head ‘LOOK!’
Please don’t look I was saying on the inside.
I’ve been told, and I know that by societies standards, I’m pretty. I don’t consider myself beautiful – but I had nothing to do with my genes and it is a fact, I am not ugly.
Besides not liking to wear makeup, I can’t wear necklaces with earrings at the same time and vice versa.
I can’t wear clothes that draw attention to myself. (Someone complimented me on a particular outfit – that someone was male. I haven’t worn it since).
I don’t want to be looked at for my outside appearance.
I don’t want you to tell me I’m pretty.
Pretty hasn’t served me well.
Pretty has littered my life with ugly.
I have been molested, I have been raped. Multiple times. I have been disrespected, I have been leered at.
I want my soul to be seen. My soul is pretty.
I want my mind to be seen. It is sharp and full of interesting things.
I want my deeds to be felt – my abilities recognized.
I want my heart to be heard beating – maybe that’s why I have tachycardia … maybe it’s trying extra hard?
I want to one day, be in a relationship and not cringe at a touch. To be able to be told I’m pretty and glow with appreciation.
I’ve forgiven the many men who have hurt me. I have forgiven myself for the promiscuity bred from being taught that was love.
But nurture has made more of an impression on my psyche than nature.
I will heal. I will. I have come so far.
I follow an amazing blog written by a friend I used to go to High School with. You can find it on the right under Blogs I follow – Everyday Asperger’s.
I’m also friends with Sam on Facebook and she had posted a video of her reading a poem today. My favorite part (other than the amazing poem) was at the beginning, she was a little self-conscious on camera and said ‘I hate my mouth’ immediately followed with affirmations to put herself into a positive place, ‘I love my mouth, I love my mouth’.
This lady inspires me. She moves me. She exudes love and light. She is someone I would put on a list of personal heroes should I ever be called to write such a list.
Sam was (and still is) gorgeous, warm, funny, bright, generous and so very sweet. She was the popular girl without the attitude. The cheerleader who really had spirit. (‘She had spirit, how ’bout you?!’ sorry – couldn’t resist LOL!) And man, could she nail her straight arms and lines – I was on the Varsity cheer squad and she was a Song Leader (I believe that’s right? It’s been so long.). Sam was kind to everybody. You could look at her on the outside and never for one second believe that she ever experienced adversity or sorrow, ever struggled nor knew pain. Sam exuded joy.
If we had never reconnected, I would never have had the chance to tell her this. But I am blessed to have had the opportunity.
You know that email that floats around – it’s something along the lines of (and I’m SO paraphrasing here) ‘there’s at least one person that thinks of you that you’ll never know about, one person that loves you, one person … etc.’ I’m so blowing it, but I hope you get the point.
Sam was someone who crossed my mind occasionally, she made that much of an impression on me. And she would never have known that had we not reconnected.
I digress. Without further ado, here’s her poem, re-printed with her permission. This brought tears to my eyes, more so after an especially sweet compliment about my spirit from someone I look up to on my spiritual journey. My friend, Samantha Craft.
“Dear Soul of Mine ~
I love you. I see you. I hear you. I believe you. I believe in your experience and perception. I believe in your efforts and hopes. I know you. And I adore you. There is nothing you can do or say that will change this. I have the potential to love you in all seasons, through storms and through merriment. I will not leave your side, nor your heart. I am you. You are beautiful. And because you are so beautiful, a spring of fresh light and goodness, I shall always love you. There is only pureness in you. I choose this. I choose to see the glorious child you are. I see through that which is not you. I see into your true form, and this makes me weep with joy. How lovely you are, in all your seasons, in all your ways. How perfectly lovely, my adored one.”