You’re a little high-maintenance, but not that much. You like being pampered, but that doesn’t mean you’re afraid of hard work – you can get the job done, if need be.

You are 27% High-Maintenance!
You’re a little high-maintenance, but not that much. You like being pampered, but that doesn’t mean you’re afraid of hard work – you can get the job done, if need be.
‘How High-Maintenance are You?’ at QuizGalaxy.com

I’m counting. GET it??? What, you never watched Sesame Street?

Well, anyway… I’m counting.

What counts today? Today I’m counting the things that make me smile.

They change from time to time. Until fairly recently, there was something that would make me smile no matter when the thought occurred, or where I was… and now all it does is bring overwhelming grief and tears to my eyes… BUT, I CAN count that I had that for a while, and I smiled quite a bit. For a while.

There are other things that are more enduring.

I decided to count these random moments, these smiles throughout the day, because of a particular such curve of my lips this morning.

I was in my daughter’s room, here at my apartment. She’s a lucky girl, in that she has TWO rooms, one here, one at her dad’s house, to fill with all the things she loves, the things her adolescent heart feels represent her, or inspire her in some way. And filled they are.

Her room is always messy. Both of them. She is sometimes so much like her mother that I have to struggle to remain aware that she is her own person, and as much like me as she may be, she is still absolutely unique.

I was in her room, depositing some of her ’stuff’ there as it doesn’t belong in my living room. As I stood in the middle of chaos, looking around at her dresser, night stand, desk and bookcase… every surface covered with an assortment of dragons, fairies, books (my God, I’m so pleased my girl loves to read as much as I do…), trash/treasures of painted rocks, shiny baubles, bits of metal she found laying in the road, random tattered ribbons saved from the horrible fate of the trash can…

As I stood looking around at all these things, and the tangle of bright-colored clothes on the floor… the tie-dyed shirt, the crocheted lace blouse, the striped arm warmers, the glitter-flecked jeans, the metal studded belt, the home-made arm warmers created from womens hosiery (which she devised on her own, not knowing it’s an OLD old old old punk and goth trick)…

As I stood peering down at the vivid illustrations of fantastic creatures that she has drawn…

As I nudged with my toe the magazines littering her floor… Kids Discover magazine, Faery magazine, Scientific American Mind magazines (stolen from MY room)…

I could have frowned at the mess. I could have lamented at the lack of organization, and railed at the reason she can NEVER… FIND… ANYTHING…

but I smiled.

A serene smile of contentment. A smile filled with warm pride.

This is my girl. This is who she is, now. And what is here, now, will lead to who she will BE… and I was standing right there in the middle of it.

For all that the separation of her parents has been incredibly painful for her, and difficult to understand, still… I can see who she is, and that she is not completely damaged. She clings to hope. She finds solace in wonder and enchantment. She exercises her imagination… while still holding fast to logic and reality. She has a keen interest in thought, and why we think, and how we think, and what influences it all. She has already developed a fairly stable belief system, and yet she remains open to spirituality and belief in something greater even when it manifests in ways that are unfamiliar to her.

I stood in the middle of the inner sanctum of a VERY good person. She is pure, and beautiful, and precious.

And for now, she is still mine. One day she will no longer be mine. She will grow to be completely her OWN person. And she may decide to belong, mutually, to someone else. I encourage, and truly hope for both of these things for her.

And I pray she is more successful than I have been in finding them. (Especially in a timely manner.)

She’s the only chance I’m going to have to feel this sense of accomplishment. When I was younger, I never really intended to have ANY children. Now I can’t imagine having lived a full life without knowing this.

The job isn’t done. It never will be. That’s how it goes when you have a child. There are good moments, and very bad moments. They bring worry and fear and apprehension of a sort that is ONLY the province of a parent caring for a child. They bring tears, and gritted teeth, and anger, and absolute frustration. But today, in that moment, I smiled… and I felt that accomplishment. So far so good. She’s a great person.

So here’s to the things that make us smile suddenly, without warning, without preamble… just… knowing. Knowing you should smile, because it is good, and that’s what that moment, that place, that vision, that smell, that thought, that sound tells you.

Smile.

I saw this on the Shroom’s blog, and I’m posting it here because I think it’s cool…

Seek out that particular mental attribute which makes you feel most deeply and vitally alive, along with which comes the inner voice which says, “This is the real me,” and when you have found that attitude, follow it.
- William James

I think I need to spend a bit of time meditating on this.

Thanks GQS.

I don’t know what it is, or if there’s a point to it, but I spent far too long staring at it…

Zoomquilt II

So here they are. The author takes no responsibility for the lack of validity or truth in any of these. These answers are only valid for a limited time, and subject to change without notice. (I am female, after all, and my preferences, opinions and beliefs are about as predictable as a flea trying to camp on a hot griddle. You can be sure they’ll be jumping around, but you never know where they’re going to land.)

1. Where did you think you would be at this juncture in your life?

Not here, certainly. When I was a kid, I thought I would have a career… of some sort. When I was in my early twenties, I thought I would have a ‘typical’ suburban family life. Now that I’ve found I’m not really into either of those things, I’m trying to figure out where I DO want to be. Very possibly, where I want to be is ‘in constant motion’, meaning that I must continue to grow, change and progress. There is no exact ‘where’ or even ‘what’. I just want to be me, and that changes from day to day, hour to hour, even minute to minute. As long as I am meeting the basic needs of food and shelter, I will be in motion, seeking some sort of bliss. Or… at least… entertaining myself while doing it. Life will be interesting, even if it isn’t always pleasant. As it has been of late.

2. Why do you think it’s so hard to let go of the past?

For me… it’s because the past is a part of who I am. My past experiences have shaped me just as much as my genetics have shaped me. I personally find it about as easy to let go of the past as I would find it to amputate an appendage. It’s better to learn how to live WITH the past, and place the past in its proper perspective. You know, like getting in shape… taming the body, the muscles, to make a better frame within which to live… I must do the same to my mind. The past will always be a part of me. I’m not going to ‘let it go’, but I CAN learn to discipline my mind and my thoughts to be a better frame within which to live.

3. What characteristics would a person have to possess to allow easier access through the ‘wall of Joy.’

If I knew that secret, or if anyone else did, I think there would be a whole lot more people on my side of the wall.

4. As on actors studio, what occupation other than yours would you like to try?

I don’t have an occupation now… how can I possibly think of an ‘other than’. I suppose, though, if I could do anything, whether it were practical or not, then I’d try singing. Kind of late to train for that now, but… you know…

5. What occupation would you never try?

Whore.

6. What does happiness in your life look like to you?

I’ll let you know when I see it. I think, though, that it has something to do with contentment, a sense of belonging where I am, and being comfortable with WHO I am, and with those who surround me.

7. If you could kill anyone and absolutely get away with it and have no guilt over the kill, who would you kill?

Anyone sitting on death row because of incontrovertible evidence of molesting or otherwise harming a child.

8. What scenario scares you the most?

Any in which control of my life has been taken from me. Being physically incapacitated but still completely cognizant of everything that’s happening would be unbearable. The idea of losing my memory is also very scary, and a real possibility given my family history.

9. Why haven’t we ever dated?

Because I have been un-date-able since 1988. And I intend to be un-date-able henceforth. Celibacy seems to be the direction I’m headed.

10. Who do you know personally that you most look up to and why?

I find it a little sad that I can’t think of any living person immediately. I’ll consider this a while, and if I do think of someone I’ll edit and add it later. The one person, in all my life, that I look up to most was my grandmother, for so many reasons that I could not possibly list them all.

You said,

Hm. I think I’d rather hear about the questions you DIDN’T answer!

Ok…. joo gots ques-chones? I gots answers, bay-beeeee…

Hit me. Think up your best. I will answer them.

But I cannot promise that I won’t be glib and evasive. Still, gimme yer best shot, chil’, an’ I’ll do mah bes’ by ya.

I’ll never shine again.

That spark that ignited the flame is snuffed.

I’ll never glow again.

There’s nothing within to luminesce.

The place you were inside me is hollow. The light you shone in my dark places is gone. Nothing there now, but the dying echoes of the tumult as I pushed, poked, prodded, cut, sliced, hacked, smashed you away away away

AWAY

I was comfortable for a moment… before that.

I was secure for awhile before that.

I was proud for a time before that.

And I was happy… so very happy… before that.

I was nothing at all before that.

Now I am something… but still no one. Because I wasn’t THE one.

That realization burned out of control and razed the flimsy construct you had built.

Now only darkness remains. Not the slightest ember is left.

The glimmering gone.

It started as an ache,

Herald of the void.

I hardly understood, plagued with adolescent fears.

It wasn’t something I was needing.

The vague impulses of a child
with no concept that wild abandon could be had
if she only knew what to do
with what was hers.

Instead I saw it as a curse.

Then it was something they could take.

And when they took, I was destroyed.

Trembling with hope,

ending in unshed tears and self-loathing to which it always was leading.

Clumsily groping in the dark,
trembling and stark naked, I’d fake it,
couldn’t feel, it wasn’t real
the way it always was for them.

My rising tide something always would stem.

Then I realized I could make.

The curse could be employed.

A work of many years,

biological compulsion: breeding.

A means to sate the desire to create
a genetic bridge, in my image,
to carry on when I’m gone.
Send out my girl in the world.

Unlike me, unfettered.

For her it will be better.

Now, more than ever, I am awake,

Thoughts and senses jointly employed.

Your voice is faint, but my soul hears,

and has set my heart beating.

A rose in full bloom only embraces her doom
with her beauty,
a duty
to flower until the hour
she is destroyed even as she’s enjoyed.
But somehow in this necessity

she finds her ecstacy.

Always the ache.

Always the void.

I didn’t know it was you I’ve bled for all these years.

I’m still bleeding.

And needing.