Nostalgia (and a bit of insomnia)~

Everyday I think of Some Really Random Things I want to bring back and rock out old school style.

Just to name a few:

1) Hi Fives...if something is good, you have to give it its due (Up Top!) *And none of that halfway mess...no way---I am talking all out, fully committed, arm entirely extended, make that sweet slap sound...with enthusiasm....and if, by chance, there is a jump involved, that is okay too (the more lift and air obtained, the better)*

2) Glitter *and lots of it!* (See my earlier post 'All That Glitters' for more reasons to don the dazzle)~

3) And speaking of dazzle... ANYTHING "bedazzled"....*Place, Push and Pop!* (I wanna be known as the "Bedazzler Queen")..... https://www.mybedazzler.com/

4)Crimped Hair. After all, who wouldn't want their hair to look like it just came out of a waffle fry maker?

4) Banana Seat Bikes....oh, the memories I have of riding around with my friends together *the more the merrier, people* Bring 'em back!

5) Slap Bracelets. These were oh so cool and stylin' (And who doesn't want to admit the times when you were able to "slap" a bracelet on a "frenemy" with complete, passive-aggressive satisfaction (albeit applied with a little more force and gusto than possibly necessary?)...

6) MC Hammer "pants"... *oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh-whoa-whoa....it's hammer time* (again)

7) Really Big Hair--like the Texas big--(maybe this particular one is simply b/c of my recent biking mishaps...it is so hot to wear a helmet here...and I think this could quite possibly provide a two-for-one deal of sorts--form and function...class and cushion....style and *oh who am I kidding?*.....

8) Saved By The Bell...One last hurrah....beat the dead horse...why not!?!?! *The Golden Years?* Bayside Retirement Resort...Beach Bingo with Belding, anyone?

9)The Robot, The Percolator, The Roger Rabbit, The Hammer dance (and any other random steps that make the dancer appear *to the untrained eye* as if they are having a seizure, or simply needing to make a pit-stop by the nearest loo)~

10) And, finally....to round out my list of ten (there are so many more, but this is a good representation of my recent random musings).... Naptime...just like when we were in Kindergarten...complete with our own neon orange foamy, cushy mats, and lullaby or WeeSing music piping in the background.....*And, yes, I'd like a juicebox too, please*...

Struggle not denied..

I received an email from a friend of mine who I thank God for everyday. He was challenging me to give voice to the struggles in life that I (and that we ALL) face. I do believe that this blog would not be complete or balanced unless it brought to light (honestly and openly) struggles...plain and simple.

For what it is worth, this is my picture. As always, I welcome your own portraits, paintings (finger-paintings I am partial to, of course).

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Nestled in this nook,

Tucked away from prying eyes

This feathered bird prays:

Awaiting hope’s birth,

Sweet child of emblazoned sky

“Dispel this darkness.”

A chill in the air,

I reach out for my sweater,

Feathers not enough

October is gray

And winter has come too soon

I was not ready

Knitting, not preening

I make haste in a panic

Clothing nakedness

Slowly haste gives way

Surrendering sheer fatigue,

A delicate fade

Captive tears once trapped,

Angrily assault my gates

They are free to go

Succumbing at length,

I have become that last leaf,

And loosen my grip

Choosing to let go,

I dance and swirl to the ground,

Winter has not won~

the Who

The more I read of Anne Lamott's book (overtly about how to write)...I am struck with the awareness that this book (for me) is more about how to LIVE. Listen to Lamott's description about plot and see if you do not agree:

"Plot is the main story of your book or short story..[...]...Plot grows out of character. If you focus on who the people in your story are, if you sit and write about two people you know and are getting to know better day by day, something is bound to happen.

Characters should not, conversely, serve as pawns for some plot you've dreamed up. Any plot you impose on your characters will be onomatopoetic: PLOT. I say don't worry about plot. Worry about the characters. " (Bird by Bird)~

As I read this, I was shocked to have a mirror held up to my own face. So many times in my own life, I worry about plot--my plot. I want to, like the writers (who are the majority I might add) that Anne Lamott warns against, sit down at my desk of life and pen my plot narration. I already know the background...to be sure, there are a few spots that I would gloss over and "tidy up" for the reading audience for starters. I then want to know the ending first...I want to know exactly what is going to happen so that I can plan for my story's timing and progression to "make sense." In my mind, if I know the ending, I can make everything in between fit perfectly...the rising action, the arc of the climax, the falling action, and the resolution...my plot (my life) all arriving at my (the author's) boxed conclusion and appointed destination (immaculately wrapped, and all tied up in a pretty pink bow, of course.)

Lamott is the first to open my eyes to the fact that I have it all wrong in these moments. The times that I am so preoccupied with what is going to happen in my life, coupled with my paralyzing preoccupation with the future and how it will unfold, many times causes me (just like many writers) to prematurely push my plot--leaving all actions feeling forced, ill-timed, and unauthentic--calculated, contrived and not to mention a huge amount of exhaustive work. These actions become the misguided byproducts of wasted energy-- of soul leeching toil and labor.

I am struck with the continued theme of patience that winds itself like a golden thread throughout Lamott's counsel regarding writing (and life (?))-- Patience with oneself (as the author and observer). Patience with the plot (as it unfolds in its own time). Patience with the characters (as WHO they are slowly (painfully even, at times) emerges, giving way to WHAT they will do/ accomplish). Patience with the process.

This last commitment of intentional patience is the one which strikes me the most. Patience with the process. Ponopeople--Our plots will be messy. They will most assuredly never turn out the way we had outlined in our first (or second, or even third!) drafts. The endings may have to be re-written. There will be times when we will have to backtrack, or press the pause button on the plot...go back and edit and fix some things before we can move forward towards the next chapter. All of this will seem to be a painfully slow and tedious process most of the time. But, to be sure, we will arrive with a complete book....a brilliant work of non-fiction--a poignant portrait of life and truth--of beauty, and the ugliness that often leads to it~ We will have round characters--characters made of flesh--characters who drive the plot, because of WHO they are...because of who WE are.

Write on, my friends...

'Effin Messy (A Tribute to Finger Painting, Flaws and Freedom)

I am in the middle of reading the book Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott (extremely good, by the way) and I came across this passage regarding perfectionism. She is directly referencing the process of writing, yet I have complete faith that a lesson about life is fast on its heels... Such wisdom and awareness could not go undocumented here:

"Perfectionism means that you try desperately not to leave so much mess to clean up. But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground--you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip. Tidiness suggests that something is as good as it's going to get. Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation, while writing (LIFE??) needs to breathe and move."

For some reason, as I read this passage (the whole chapter, really) I could not get the image of children finger painting out of my head. Kids--- ten-tentacled--caked to the core with a rainbow pallet of bright blues, radiant reds, and glittering greens--they "stroke". Swirling and twirling--swinging wide-- joyously launching globs and blobs of pigment with reckless abandon. Hues hurtle heedlessly towards the canvas--splashing; spreading; saturating every inch of naked space--clothing it with color. A spirit of frenzied freedom breathes life into the previous pallor.

Children are no respecters of lines...this is evident as one surveys the carnage of a canvas that was once so tidy and neat. Yes, I say, carnage....for the children have feasted upon their freedom of flaws...having satisfied themselves upon the sweet surrender of sterility. And it was good~

Wind Resistance~

I live in a place that enables me to be out in the sunshine and air 365 days out of the year. This is quite possibly the main reason I chose to live here. I have learned many things about myself over these last few years especially--one of them being that I must (yes, must!) get at least some pure, Vitamin D laden sunshine every day....and I soak it up like a sponge...yes, I love it~

Riding my bike is one of those things that has always been a favorite exercise. I find it cathartic and exhilarating. I love to pedal fast, fast, fast...the wind whipping your hair and the salty air of the ocean stinging your face, yet you never mind because you feel invigorated--you feel alive!

Yesterday morning I set out once again on a favorite ride of mine. It takes me along the waterside all the way to this beautiful peninsula point of the bay, and it is breathtaking. What I find interesting is that, no matter how many times I go on this ride, I always downplay the extreme difference of the ride TOWARDS the peninsula versus the return ride. Allow me to explain: going to the point the wind is at my back and the giddy expectation of arrival at the delightful destination spurs me onward with great anticipation and joy! I always arrive, a personified portrait of zen and tranquility, and remind myself how much I LOVE this ride! As I sit and bask in the sunshine and have all my endorphins surging through my veins....I exhale and know, "This is bliss!"

However (no, it never fails!) I soon come down to earth and realize the truth in the saying, "What goes up, must come down" or, in my case, "What goes forth, must return"... so...I head back home. The SECOND I turn my face homeward and take that initial pedal forward, I know. Oh, I feel it in my bones!--this is going to be a long ride home.

The wind yesterday was worse than most days...as I pedaled, I looked to my right and left and realized I was barely moving....cars whizzed past the poor "effed" cyclist caught in the windstorm (I swear Hawaii had a tsunami--at least the friggin' winds!--I don't care if it wasn't officially announced--I was in a hurricane of gale force!). The looks on these peoples' faces ranged from polite pity, to commiserating compassion, to downright comical hilarity as they came upon the spectacle I am sure I created. *Small girl, relatively small bike, huge gale-force winds, futile (yet furious and frantic!) pedaling!* (The theme song from the Wizard of Oz-- when the wicked witch of the west was chasing Dorothy on her bike resounds in my ears: "Doot doot doo doo doot doo- dooo!!!!) *pedal pedal pedal*

As yet another huge blast of wind bitchslaps me in the face, I remind myself how much I HATE this ride! I exhale and know, "This is HELL!"

I somehow make it home....beaded with sweat, cherry-red faced, wet spaghetti-noodled legs...and collapse into a quivering mound of gelatinous humanoid goo on my living room floor (Forget making it to the couch...it is entirely across the room...psh~) I slide into the sleep of the dead, greedily grasping every last minute that I can before the alarm rocks me violently back into reality. Torn from my sweat induced slumber....I awaken reluctantly, yet all aglow with the sweet surge of seratonin. I head to work (on my bike again) and my workday begins.

This morning I am awake early again. I contemplate my morning ride. How I am looking forward to it! I do love that view...and the ride back is not so bad...but, oh, that view is spectacular...and so worth it...

(and I realize, in this moment, upon this thought/ mindset, how very much all of life is like this). Wind, be damned!