Blog Archives
Awake and not naked
Why am I up so early after a restless night? And why am I not naked??
I should clarify, those two thoughts are independent of one another.
I awoke at 1 am having had the strangest dream. It was of an ex of mine. I got up, blurry eyed and off-balance and let the dog out.
Noticed some lightning and thought ‘I’m partially awake, I’ll sit outside and watch nature put on a little show while I wait for the dog.’ So I did.
It’s not uncommon, (she says trying to keep a straight face because it’s ALWAYS) that I’ll have a few tangent thoughts when sitting quietly. (Or while talking to someone, or while working, or while doing the dishes, or while reading.)
I thought about the ex. He’s happily married with children. Most of them are. That pleases me.
I wondered then, am I cursed?? Or, do I have super powers?
When I break up with someone, they end up shortly afterwards finding someone they marry and/or procreate with.
Before I went back to sleep, I considered the possibilities. I should use these powers for good! I could be a professional girlfriend, (wait … isn’t that already a profession?) then break up with that person and TA DA! They could find their ‘happily-ever-after-mate.’
Interesting. Very interesting.
I would have a collection of ‘thank you’ notes in my portfolio along with wedding photos. Eharmony, move over!
The irony is my name, Amanda, means, ‘Worthy of being loved.
Now, onto the naked.
It’s Summer in the desert. It is hot. Even in the middle of the night my air conditioner kicks on with its gentle ‘THUD’.
I sleep in boxers and a tank top …
WHY AM I NOT NAKED??
Nic is in England!
When he is not in England, the reason for my clothed body is that we have a pretty open door policy around here. Only time I shut my door is when I’m going from towel to getting dressed.
There have been plenty of times I’ve gone to bed (or am trying to pee) and my door bangs open and it’s Nic wanting to show me something or tell me something. Since I don’t want him scarred for life, I’ve covered up since he was old enough to be traumatized by seeing his mother naked.
But he isn’t here! And I don’t think the dog cares one way or another … so I’ll put ‘sleep naked you idiot, it’s hot in here!’ on my list of things to do.
I’ll now show that I am capable of tying thoughts together and not just veering from topic to topic, by actually joining the subjects of love and Nic being gone – together.
Can I get a volunteer from the audience?
Nic has been gone for four days now. 4. And the status update I wake to see is “Cheers from England.” AND, he ‘saw’ my instant message but didn’t respond to it!
Guys, do you not realize how much we females read into your unresponsiveness to interaction??
We think about you all the time! We multi-task and can even think about you while running the house, the errands or the world.
Here’s some insight into the female mind. If you haven’t emailed us back, called us back or messaged us, (and it doesn’t matter if you’re a son or a love interest,) we assume the worst. You are either dead or you don’t love us anymore.
And if you don’t email or message or call us for an extended period of time, you had better be dead.
I jest. We love you. We just need to be reassured that you are alive and thinking of us when you’re not with us.
There! I did it! And no tangents!
Musings from the laundromat – Lightning Crashes edition
I sat outside under the night sky last night – feeling the thunder vibrate through me – smelling the rain that did not fall. Lightning flashed in random ‘peek-a-boo’ fashion, making clouds temporarily visible.
And I was contemplating.
Nic goes to England in just 3 days. For a month at least – perhaps indefinitely, if it is to be his path.
I’ve had so much on my mind lately, time slipped by on cat feet. Quickly and quietly.
Just what am I going to do alone with my thoughts? Probably have more of them.
As I stepped inside, ironically, ‘Lightning Crashes’ was being performed acoustically on the tv. Live was providing my thoughts some background music.
As if my thoughts need them.
My internal tangents have theme songs and a cast and crew … lighting and screen writers – production staff and catering. It’s quite heady really. Independent tangents of course, we have a budget you know.
But, a tangent was born. The song reminded me of someone I dated. He was in a band (shocking, I know.) He played the bass and when his band performed that particular song, he would come down from the stage and slow dance with me until he had to join in.
The drums and bass aren’t involved until the end of the 2nd verse of the song – and that is when my dance ended. Then up on stage he would go and I would find my seat.
I seem to have so many stories like that – but no book. So many ‘almosts’ but no ‘ever after’. I’m to blame for most of them, I know. I pushed people and opportunities away. So stubborn. And never willing to settle.
I’ve always had big dreams of what life and love is supposed to be. I still do.
When you’ve seen what I’ve seen and experienced what I’ve experienced, life gets bigger and so does your soul and heart and dreams.
And I still will not settle. I will wait. I will wait for the man with the broken heart and haunted past – who is meant for me.
The first I knew of true love – unconditional, pure love was when I gave birth. They say that will be the case to first time mothers (and fathers.) “The minute you lay eyes on that baby, THEN you’ll know what love is.” ‘They’ were right.
Although, if I’m being honest, when Nicholas Avery Charles was laid in my arms, and when I looked down and said my first word to him “Hi.” I didn’t feel that intense burst of love right away.
I felt like a terrible mother then – wasn’t there supposed to be internal fireworks going on? A sudden and profound new-found feeling of the maternal variety?
I was madly in love with my son when I carried him. I loved every hiccup, every kick. I spoke to him – I caressed my belly and imagined what my baby would look like, what he or she would sound like. I chose not to know the sex of my baby – I found out (obviously) when the doctor announced “It’s a son.”
I missed being pregnant for a little while after he was born. I truly missed it. Perhaps it felt safer carrying him inside of me – where he was alive and mine and protected from the world. I don’t know.
Oh, the postpartum love came. It came like a love tsunami – my heart was filled to overflowing.
I barely let him sleep in his crib at home. I would ‘accidentally’ bump into it so that he would wake up. “OH! Are you awake? Let me hold you.” And for hours I would breathe in the scent of him as he fell back asleep on my chest.
I loved my son with a heart I didn’t know I had.
I would lay down and die for my son if need be.
I would do anything to ensure he has a chance for a life filled with memories, love, hope, dreams and wonder.
And … I would send him away from me.
And I am.
And I hope that he finds those things on his journey. I’m giving him all I have to give, an opportunity. A ticket to see more than his small home town. A chance.
Perhaps years from now, he’ll sit outside as a storm brews and recall this upcoming adventure – lose himself in thought with a smile on his face. Then go back inside of his home and share a story with his family.
Soul stretch
I caught myself off guard this afternoon.
It was lovely.
I stretched in my office chair and my mind emptied – I was suddenly only aware of my flesh and bones and the soul within me wanting to be fed.
In that single stretch – I was not thinking of worldly ‘things’ I had to do – thoughts I had to have, or needs yet to be met.
My body sung in my stretched position and I felt absolutely, deliciously, human.
Every inch of me exhaled in a glorious release of tension.
I was Amanda.
I found her.
I was wide awake spiritually and in that brief moment, so very aware.
Aware of my body – my heartbeat and breath, and urgently aware that time slips by too quickly.
As I returned from the stretch, I brought with me the short and important list of things my soul wants to experience.
Love.
Knowledge.
Truth.
And nothing, nothing at all was more important. And time is of the essence.
I was given this today.
All in one single stretch.
Musings from the laundromat – Unapologetic edition
A friend asked me what was going on and how was I feeling this morning – he said “Your blog post was a big downer …”
My first reaction to that was that today’s post needed to be a super upbeat, a “I’m SO grateful, joyous” positive post to make up for yesterdays sad one.
But I am not going to do that.
I get tired of apologizing for being human.
I have said before and I’ll say it again, I really don’t tend to edit myself. Ask me a question, I’ll answer it. You know where you stand with me.
This bleeds over to my blog. I keep identities secret, but not my feelings. And I’m not about to start now.
I received an instant message from a dear friend of mine last night after I published Dirt and destiny, and we typed back and forth and I sat there, on my porch, and I cried.
It felt SO good and was just what I needed.
Not maudlin, not sobbing, not gut wrenching ‘why me’ – ‘poor me’ crying … just, cleansing tears.
Acknowledging that I was sad and scared and unsure. Letting a long week out onto my cheeks.
She said just the right things. Things I needed to hear. That it was okay to want things for myself sometimes too. To consider myself. That I deserve to be happy.
I fight this.
I find myself constantly trying to make amends for my past by not allowing the notion that I could deserve to be happy to blossom.
I should clarify – I AM ‘happy’ … we are speaking of ‘happy-ever-after’ happy.
Once you have come to the above conclusion – once you have found what and who you want, you recognize that there are only so many tomorrows. And maybe there isn’t even another ‘tomorrow’.
I’ve also been taught that if there is nothing you can do – do the next right thing. So, I’ve been to the laundromat, washed the dog – and after this post I’ll clean and find time to rest.
I’ll read one of the books I’m currently reading and breath.
I tend to succeed in pushing through tough times. And when I’m uncertain or worried, I find the light and grow through it.
I also have to remember, that my imagination amplifies every situation. I have to decide how to feel. And in the end, I always choose happy.
Dirt and destiny
It smells of dirt outside. Fresh garden dirt. The kind of dirt you don’t mind having under your fingernails as you straighten from a new bed of plants and feel your back begin to ache. But it’s not my dirt, and my back is fine. I can’t think where I’m picking up the scent as only desert dirt surrounds me.
One smell though – and my thoughts go into overdrive. The same with songs. Names. Colors.
I love my imagination. I embrace it. But the last few days I’m had to tamp it down – like the dirt I imagined only moments ago from my porch.
The week began with wonderment and excitement and hope. It declined to heart problems and doctors and needles and tests and tears. And just when I thought the week couldn’t slip any further, it did.
Someone I care deeply about had some unexpected sad news.
When someone I love worries, I worry. When someone I love is happy, I’m happy for them. I’m a very intuitive, sensitive, feeling person. Not to be confused with co-dependent. Because I’m perfectly capable of finding my own happiness. It is not contingent on others.
But I digress, as usual.
I’m finding myself in suspended animation – swiping the screen of my ipad to check for news – messages. My heart, dropping into my stomach when my email advises me that yes, it has updated and no, there is nothing new to show me.
I’ve been feeling selfish too. Selfish because this recent event could mean that all the wonderment and excitement I felt at the beginning of the week could be delayed, or perhaps, never be.
And that is when I have to tamp down my imagination.
You let me sit and think without information and I’ll create either the best or worst scenario my mind can come up with. It’s terrible. Terrible and wonderful at the same time.
I’ve dismissed the worry I had for myself and the hug I shared with my doctor, while tears streamed down my cheeks is a fading memory.
But the love and fear I feel for someone else remains.
I will pray to whatever God will listen to me – and use my imagination to send love and light to the family that needs it.
I have to decide, again, to let go. Give another thing I have no control of over to the universe.
Fairy tales will have to wait, even destiny gets interrupted sometimes.
















