Tears of Recognition~

I cried today.

I cried not when I awoke thousands of miles from home.

I cried not when my bare feet (so used to the Hawaiian warmth) hit the cold, marble floor.

I cried not when my greeting to the flat’s concierge faded into the air unmet.

I cried not when the front door opened to a decibel of howling wind that only dogs, or perhaps bats could intelligibly decipher.

I cried not when the taxicab blared its horn at my apparent inadequacy in crossing the road in a timely manner.

I cried not when the waitress at the restaurant refused to serve me, as I could not order in “proper Spanish.”

I cried not when the next waiter barely met my eye, as I seem to serve only in being an unwanted nuisance here...damn tourist.

I cried not when the "toast" I ordered really turned out to be something with ham and a yellowish sauce of sorts…on top of um, bread (I think).

I cried not when I left the café starving, too proud to return the unknown something in order to get what I really wanted.

I cried not when I, on my morning run, passed by the fellowjoggers, who I realized sadly were not my “fellow” anythings.

I cried not when my legs began to burn, my exhausted physical body beginning to slowly match the state of my weary heart and emotions.

I cried not when I stopped to watch the sea, my lungs seering in pain…protesting angrily at the pace I had pushed upon them.

Old man, off to my right. I catch a glimpse of you. Small in stature you appear to be….yet after my morning…you are menacing. Dare I meet your gaze…and risk my soft, thin skin being bruised yet again? I turn, despite my better judgment. I see you. You offer me not a smile….not even a full look in the eye…but you tip your hat to me—a slight nod of your head….recognition that I AM.

I cried today.

'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~

The Beatles were onto something...

In follow up to the most recent blog thought (the quote about what love truly is and looks like in real, everyday life,) I wanted to post a few things on my mind from my interactions of the recent days:

This morning I was reading some Anais Nin, whom I must admit I really admire, even though we see very differently on many subjects. Nin spoke her mind, and was not afraid of voicing (at least what she saw) as truth. I value and respect that in her, and any human for that matter. I came across this quote in my reading today, and it has awakened an inquiry into many things in my heart. She stated that:

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings."

This quote is chock full of so many things we could talk about and voice. I read this and am both saddened and, yet, given hope simultaneously. Let me explain. I am saddened because I see love dying all around us. I witness marriages failing, friendships being severed, families being torn apart, and children who are abandoned and scarred. It seems that everywhere one turns, there is a casualty of "dead love" in our midst~

A man came into the coffee shop just last night....it was a mere ten minutes until closing time, and it had been a long day. I was ready to go home, yet the look on his face as he checked the clock and growled at me: "I still have a good ten minutes until I have to be out of your hair, young lady!!!" pierced my heart. This man was bitter and hardened towards life. He knew it....and you better bet everyone around him knew it as well. I uttered a small and exasperated prayer under my breath for patience and fortitude...and a speedy exit....God, as He often does, seemed to have a different plan. (gee thanks, JC)~ *sigh*

Long story short, the man proceeded to growl and gripe his way through a lengthy (oh how it was LENGTHY!) diatribe of negative comments about the coffee, the weather, the ungodly hour that the shop closed *gasp* (I do believe he felt inconvenienced!), life in general, and basically anything he laid his eyes on. The Beatles song "All You Need is Love" piped in the background... (The irony was not wasted on me)~

I asked the crotchety old man if he liked this song. Actually, my exact words I recall being completely over the top (in hopes to diffuse his rancor): "Oooh-wee! This song makes me wanna smile, and dance! You are a closet dancing man, aren't you, my friend?" The man eyed me in silence (my guess is he was wondering what I had been smoking on my break,) then let out a long sigh. His heavy shoulders slumped, and he simply said: "Sometimes love isn't enough."

My boss came to usher him out and shut the doors, it was closing time. As I watched him shuffle away, I kept waiting for him to turn around one last time...he never did. I hoped the man would come again. I wondered about the "love" that this man had experienced in his lifetime. How had humanity been blind to his need(s)? What betrayal had stolen the sweetness from his palate, leaving only a taste, bitter as gall? What countless errors had been committed, when such a man only had one more chance left within him to give, his heart having been wounded so many times before? What shallow, anorexic "love" had caused this man's spirit to go without, leaving him starving for affection and sustenance of any kind?

And what separates any of us from becoming this man?

I wonder all of these things as I sit here on my computer recalling the day. And YET, YET!!! (I love that word YET!)....here is where the hope of that quote resonates in my soul: Nin says that Love dies only when there is ignorance and inaction. Which means to me, that, in finding HOW to replenish the source, there is hope that Love will LIVE!

But, here is where the "Pono" comes into the picture: I would pray that we would not only settle for Love to survive, but that we would seek and desire to take it a step further, and have love THRIVE. It is possible....and I also know it begins with each of us~

All That Glitters~

I've often asked myself where is it that we (people in general) lose that child-like joy we grew up with? I think you all know what I am talking about. Go to any public park, or spend five minutes with a small child and you will see the wonder and amazement, and yes, sheer exuberance with which they live life. Where, I ask, do we as adults lose that joy and vibrancy? Many of you already know my swinging story (oh, yeah....) but that is just one of many instances when I have felt almost tangibly an ache or grieving moment for the loss of naivete and the lightness of being that seems to inherently come to children.

All of that to say, today I was reminded afresh that I am not the only one who yearns and desires a return (in any way possible, and even in small doses) of that childlike joy. Allow me to explain. I work at a coffeeshop six days a week, for minimum wage...I am a baker and barista and friendly caffeine dealer workin' the 'hood....and I love it....absolutely, positively love it. I am able to, with every person that comes through and pays for their daily cup o' joe, to have a small window of opportunity to just love on them, and smile at them, and make them laugh--something good--anything good I hope to brighten their day.

Lately I have taken to spicing it up a bit and getting a little more whimsical with my eye makeup...I live in Hawaii, so mostly I never wear any makeup...but I thought this morning I would just do it...and mix it up and have some fun with some glitter makeup that my friend from LA who is a makeup artist sent me. The note with the bottle said "Apply Sparingly Around Eyes and Cheeks"....well, two things were amiss with these instructions from the get-go...First (these manufacturers obviously do not know me...moderation? me?) Secondly, (any one of you who knows me also knows that sparingly covering the circumference of my Irish lass cheeks is a misnomer....sparingly? come on, guys!)

So...true to form, I completely disregard the instructions and just have at it. In a moment of sheer impulse I tossed a handful of the stuff in the air above my head and lifted my face into it as it rained down on me. It was fabulous! I felt insane....wild even....as I channeled Tink in Peter Pan, I checked myself in the mirror. WOWZERS was I glowing and glittering and shimmering aplenty! I checked the clock in a panic...oh well, got to get to work, Andy's going to have to rock it out and own this glitter!!! I always say: "All you gotta do to pull it off is to put it on!" (And man had I put it on!)

What amazed me about as the day went on, was how so many people who came through the line for coffee reacted to something as silly and simple as over-exuberantly applied glitter. Some stopped and smiled. Some complimented me on my "Huzzah and Gumption"....many confessed that they wished they had the guts to rock some glitter. One woman shared that she was "too old" for such fun makeup. The men, young and old, seemed to find it fascinating and whimsical...and yes, I even received a hi-five (up top!) from a 60 year old woman who said the glitter just "made her day." But one common thread was repeated: a loop of comments simply saying how "fun" and "whimsical" and "free" my makeup looked.

I was certainly glad it was a hit, but more than that, I began to wonder and think.....and realize just how much we as humans long for joy, even in the little things. How we thirst for freedom to be whimsical and light. To breathe and allow ourselves the space to be silly and overly exuberant and unrestrained. To let go and be light.

Yes, I did just write an entire blog post centered around the excessive use of glitter. My use of glitter. It was ridiculous, it was over the top, it was silly, it was JOYFULLY applied...and it was good.