Solitude

It's that one thing I can go weeks, months, countless days without. I grew up in a household of six on a street always astir with a swarm of kids. Our trodden-to-dirt front yard (mourned by my parents) was the unofficial meeting ground, constantly covered in bikes. College life was hundred-head-count classes, twice daily practices and travel with my large track family. I feel at home being that little ant in the big march. I'm used to crowds. Honestly, I like them. Solitude for me has been a rare and curious occurrence. When it was offered I could take it or leave it.

Well, at least I thought I could take it or leave it. But some parts of the soul, even if they are few and small, need solitude. The older I get the more I crave it. And working two service industry jobs makes it all the more evident. I do do do for everyone, all the time. Monday through Saturday I will cut and color your hair, wax those brows, give you a nice blowout and the best in products. On the weekends I'll suggest you the best beers on draft, bring your food and make sure your drink is never empty. On my days off I do my darnedest to see family, friends, spoil my dog with outings, finish photo projects I've taken too long to finish, etc., etc.

Please don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I chose my jobs and I work maniacal hours so I can get where I want to be. This is completely voluntary and I'm not a slave to any system. The point I'm making (for my own understanding) is that I need to make Solitude just as important. And If anyone can complain about my lack of such it's my lover. Realization:

{It's obvious when you stop giving to yourself, 

because you stop giving to your partner as well.} 

Wow. I felt the blow of that one. My last blog was about waking up, and in doing so I have realized how little I had been giving because of how low I had let my wells become. Upon waking my muscles were so weak and small that I found myself leaning on Rae to walk. But remember when we met, I was running like mad?!!  Required: Solitude.
Being your{whole}self is nearly impossible if you're never alone with your silence.

Even in my crowd of a life I have somehow found my solitude when I needed it. In my childhood I would climb; sycamore branches held me quiet and high. In college I had my own room(s) that became shrine to my organization, spirituality and reflection. Moving back to Oklahoma City from Stillwater was a restart and I buried myself deep in the walls and creaky floors of my grandparent's house. Sometimes solitude conveniently pops in when you need it, other times you have to manifest it.

Here's to loving yourself, even in the silence!

Waking Up.

   I live in a 13x7-foot space, with my person. Only duffel bags to hold our clothes, cabinets for the things we'll use on the road, and a rug for our German shepherd. Our camper is cute. It's warm at night and fun to hang out in when the setting sun warms our West windows.
It will be amazing when we're on the road, out in new land to explore. But we're still in Oklahoma. And in day-to-day life sometimes it feels our belts are too tight. It's more than the familiar stir crazy, its the uncle who taught him everything he knows about making people crack.
 
   I escape into the clouds of nothing above me, my "unconscious" bailing out when stressed. I fall asleep at the life wheel. I am an expert at focusing on "now" and doing what I need to get through a work day or weekend or a thousand plans and things to do. But I'm not so expert-y on planning ahead. Or being present when I'm off work, which we all know is the most important place to be present. Or giving myself enough time for myself. I am living in a travel trailer with my partner and saving money for the life change we're about to make and I'VE BEEN FUCKING SLEEPING THROUGH IT!

  I am now awake. For today, for every day. I must pay attention, keep my hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. Drive. Even if it's just around the block. DO SOMETHING!

{ If I am a passenger in my life I am only baggage, to everyone and to myself. }

Yesterday I cried hard. I burned some clothes in the fire pit outside and threw some habits in with it. This may be a struggle for a while, but new habits are made after, what, 21 repetitions?! Something like that.

   Today I made sure to move. I took my body and my Rumi for a run. I can't remember the last time I really ran. It hurt.
By minute 3 my chest hurt.
Minute 5: my right runners knee began to ache.
Minute 7: knee pain replaced by shin/calf tightness.
Minute 10-14: the infamous gut ache to reiterate "You're outta shape there, buddy!"

Laziness is so, so easy. And feels good for a while. Until it doesn't.
 Hello, soil of the Earth. It's nice to feel you again.

(apparently Rae now owns the only exercise shorts in our belongings, so I borrowed them)

Latest thrift purchase $0.42 for an adorable painting by a talented person I do not know. I love it!

Layers of Life

july is hot as balls.

  Oklahoma years should skip from May to September. We don't really need July or August, right?! I'm over the heat, just like everyone else. But other than the garden tending and bike-riding to work I haven't really been outdoors much.
   I realize each week when I have an hour or two between salon and table-waiting (and Rae is at work) that - wow - I don't have much alone time. And usually my alone time is filled with pet-tending or mindless facebook wanderings. Upon home arrival Frankie "YOOOOOWWL"s because he is hungry. I sympathize, I'm hungry all the time too. And our new baby Jax (the rescued sparrow) "TWEEP!TWEEP!TWEEP!"s at me because, although we are weaning her and she absolutely knows how to eat her birdseed, she wants to be fed as well.
   Half an hour of feeding and attention between the two, then I make my salad lunch. Open a bottle of Abita Jockamo IPA and settle on the couch with Kinfolk for a soak-up-the-solitude read. My lovely friend Leigh lent the first three volumes to us after our own kinfolk dinner and drink the other night. Love, love, and love. Frankie gazes at the window (or the birdcage?!) through afternoon nap eyes. Jax warbles and preens herself. I read about solitude and reflection, and enjoy a little myself.
  If you haven't lately, make some time for You, whatever that may be.

Have a good weekend!

 morning coffee date with my lover

 new baby Jax

afternoon read and relax

2011

I've always heard that years seem to pass more quickly with age. Sometimes I think that must be true, as this last one seemed only a few blinks long...at least in physical matters and locality. Time flew. But in heart, soul and mind its been nearly an eternity.
My New Years Eve 2010 was spent with friends and acquaintances. It was spent with realization and revelation. 2011 was welcomed with promise. It would be a year of motion and growth and renewal. I knew it, I could feel it coming. 
I knew it would be uncomfortable at times, and it definitely was for a while. The first few months were a constant cycle of battling with myself. The person I was wasn't in step with the person I felt like I was, and definitely not the person I wanted to be. We were three separate entities fighting for my life to live. My heart sat beneath my stomach for some months, before climbing back to its rightful place. But even then it remained untouchable for a time. I learned, I listened. I gave in to temptation a few times and immediately regretted it. I lost and gained and lost again. I reached the closest I have ever been to the bottom of myself. By this time I had moved "home" to my grandparents house and began to re-root myself in the safest place I knew. Inside that wooden frame with my grandparents' souls, with the old creaks and moans, I strengthened.
I began meeting that person I wanted to become. I found her in those peach colored walls, where she sat calm and wise, watching over my sleep. In my garden's tending, beneath the earth where my carrots formed and grew. I found her in my flowerbed flourishing with the petunias. With the setting of every evenings sun I became more of her.
So everything that followed was air from this runway. Leaving the bank, deciding on cosmetology school, meeting my person, making my own niche (thus far) with hair...on and on. This year has been my best. My favorite, I should say, as I haven't always been at my best. I've been my worst, and my best as well. I exited this year full and thankful. {Full and thankful enough that even working through the midnight cheers while my love slept didn't bother me much.}  :)

and now for my visual rep of these last 12 months for you visual folks (myself included)...

january

{solitude, leaving}

february

{the move, more solitude and self pity}

march

{morning toast and tea, with a side of silence}

april

{garden time, growth, from the ground up}

may

{garden, rae, school, etc etc ETC! wow, this month was SO full, but the carrot covers it all}

june

{school!}

july

{rae comes home from Africa - safely- }

august

{carrot, reflection}

setpember

{blonde - that was a big deal for this brunette}

october

{Taos & Santa Fe, enough said}

november

{gardening @ Common Wealth, giving ourselves}

december

{this deserves two photos: a new baby, my first nephew!}

{and home, happily at home}

Happy New Year, everyone!

absent

do you ever feel absent from your own body? absent-minded. absent-hearted.
that's me, these past few weeks. i run run run my days and then still forget a million things. i forget to bring my lunch to school. i forget to mail my bill, again. i forget to bring my book to class. day to day things. but then i find that i forget to show Rae how thankful i am for everything he is and does for me. i forget to keep in touch with friends i've been thinking of. i forget to slow down and be thankful for what i have. and i feel i've abandoned my heart in the rush. and then when its coming to mind and heart all that i've forgotten, i forget to forgive myself.
its most likely that less of that part is forgetting and more punishment, because i somehow feel i deserve it. but if there is one thing i have learned these past months - you must allow room for yourself. whatever room you need. to grow, to heal, to feel what you feel, and to be imperfect. this is still, and may always be, the hardest lesson for this little perfectionist.

but there are always things to remind me i'm good enough, and that i can do and be anything i want with room allowed for imperfection.

 like dressing up as celebrities at school and laughing with friends (I'm Ellen!)

 coffee and slow mornings to ourselves

my babies

 projects that turn out just like you want them to

Rae. and our home. and all our plans.

in unison

my hair school instructor showed this video today. i've seen flash-mob stuff before, but for some reason the music + the magnitude + my thoughts lately have made this one more significant for me. as i watched it this morning i stared in awe, nearly teary-eyed in class just thinking of the implications of people working together. so i've been watching this at home, and i can't seem to get through it without crying.

something about the crowd, the movement, the message. one person, then a few, then a few thousand. just think of what we can do when in unison!
i've had a back-and-forth struggle with this thought today. feeling big in my own life - master of my destiny - truly happy - making changes that i can make on my own. but also feeling small and heavy-hearted with the knowledge of the human condition. there are countries full of drowning souls. poverty, racism, violence. there is so much we cannot touch. i feel gratitude and guilt almost equally. i realize i can't start anywhere else, but here. i'll play my role, you play yours.and if we're all moving in unison we'll see what we can do.

crop consternation

after my first round of seed plantings were unsuccessful (blaming frost) i planted round two. but didn't think about labeling the rows. "ah, i'll remember what they are!"(...insert scoff here...)

my "herbs" had grown like crazy these past few weeks and i was grateful. but still a bit disappointed that the only thing i had were herbs. i had planted carrots, lettuce, strawberries, bell peppers and jalapenos. i've gotten one or two nice tiny strawberries, but that's it thus far.
so every day as i diligently watered i entertained just a bit of bitterness. herbs. hmm. sure. i'll use them. i'll water them. they're going to be the best damn herbs ever, because that's what's growing for me right now!

then yesterday as i watered i decided to pull up a little green shoot. i thought it was parsley. but noticed it was strangely familiar to the little carrots i had encountered at homeland the night before. lo and behold...when i pulled the green stalks....a gorgeous orange root did emerge from my earth.

*geek*

needless to say, i was ecstatic. i pranced from garden to house to garden, fetching my camera, bowls, and whatever else i might need for some happy-go-lucky-harvesting.

the whole situation made me think...how many things in our lives might we miss by neglecting to nourish what we think isn't productive? or at least not productive in the ways we would prefer? probably more than i'd like to admit, speaking for myself. but the past months have left me tending every last, lonely little plant. i have been paying more mind to nourishing myself in places i had for so long forgotten. the little things. but it felt right. so i did it. and now here's crop. carrots. peace. open doors. closed windows. perfection in timing and a little kiss on the cheek from the universe.

"hey kid, you're in the right place."

it's nearly unexplainable, this peace. this life.

ecstatic new earth momma

also, i found i have wild onions growing in my backyard, so i pulled up a handful of those as well. <3

* cheers to growth, harvest, diligence *

hushed

i’ve been hushed. 

my avid proclamations of self lowered to a mumble, and then to silence. i felt life stirring, the pulling of the undercurrent. so i let my little hands release the banked branch to which i had been holding. the river cradled and carried me away in its fluid arms. 

tumbling, spinning, dancing underneath the surface of the water. 

a soundtrack reverberates through my soul. raw banjo melodies, harmonicas and reedy voices. 

something has changed. everything has changed.

29 until 29

there's about 29 minutes until my birthday. please...i'm not looking for attention. i'm just thinking. 29 minutes until 29 years old. yep, 29. wow. and this is definitely not where i thought i'd be at 29.
i'm trying to think of a simple way to put what's spinning around in my head. i suppose it sounds/looks something like this:

whoa. 29. *shudder*
but i feel younger. i've always felt younger. especially now.
unemployed
starting my life over
(hopefully i'll get that camera tomorrow)
freshly out of the closet, divorced
freshly single, and then un-single again
my house is cold
29 minutes till 29
29 minutes and you'll be 29 too
and i miss you. i miss my friend.
but we'll see where life leads
hopefully i'll see you again
and we'll both smile {hopefully}
this flogging molly song makes my heart smile
i wish frankie would stop playing with his toys on my bed...
maybe i'll wear a dress tomorrow, and makeup too
and maybe my amazing red vintage heels
whoa. 29.
*sigh*

procreation documentation

no, i'm not speaking of porn. haha! birth photography!!
my lovely friend paige asked me about photographing her home birth in a few months. i (maybe a little over-) ecstatically agreed. my mother had my last two brothers at home and i witnessed the "miracle of birth" (orwhathaveyou) twice by 10 years of age. popping out babes seemed like a pretty normal thing to me, but somehow at 9 years old i knew home-birthing was something a little more than bizarre to most people. but i was proud that my mom was a naturalist and i've grown to have the same ideas about birth (and life in general, really.)

anyway, i photographed my sister-friend rashel's birth nearly three years ago. it wasn't at home, but a birthing room with a midwife. it was warm and intimate and precious. no unnecessary medical intrusions, just a woman's body doing what it knows to do. new life, new love.

haha! i <3 nick. and rashel is probably gonna kill me for this one

 

i always figured i'd be a mother some day. i figured it would happen easily, undoubtedly and without hesitation. at 21 i would have predicted i'd have at least one or two spawns by now. but as the years passed the idea became more and more distant. as a young married female of 'prime reproductive age' i had revolted from any maternal ideas, thoughts, suggestions, etc. but even when i was proclaiming to the world that i didn't want kids, i still felt it. and then there was scout marley's birth. it was then, as i attempted to steady my camera with trembling hands and focus through teary eyes, that i could no longer avoid that maternal pull. since then i've been slowly letting myself accept that side of me that i've felt so prominent (but had hidden) my entire life.

now as i'm finally -publicly- admitting this i'm also fully aware how much further away this part of life is for me {especially now}.  regardless of my TypeA-control-freak personality i don't worry about what i can't control. there's no point. it will happen some day. at least i'm hoping. but for now i'm loving my ride. this life is taking me where i need to be. and i'm soo looking forward to documenting all these new sprouts that will be popping up around me. and soaking in my friends new joys. <3


(side note: obviously i know there are exceptions to the "natural" birth process. shit happens. and i'm not condoning unsafe practices or throwing all medical advice out the window. i'm just the chick who will go with nature when it comes down to it. to each his own.)