Please - get up early tomorrow! Pretend its Wyoming!!

Blogging every day...and just "blogging" in general

I'm still 51, and no, I haven't been writing "every single day" but it felt really good to write that a few weeks ago. I'm writing now; that's what matters. And, my daughter is writing on her blog. Writing and posting photos that she finds on the web. A collage of images that represent who she is, who she is becoming, her thoughts, her loves, her questions, her existential crises all in a blog...that her grandmother discovered online. There will always be those who want to stifle creativity. Those who, from a place of fear, project that onto the edgy, the thoughtful, the provocative. Now my child will have to deal with that in a more up close and personal way. My daughter told me about her blog - and invited me to view it. As a mother, I'm always in some ways fearful and protective - it's my job after all. But the invitation, and the material I've seen, gives me a glimpse into the wrestling that she is doing as an extremely thoughtful and observant person. She is fascinated by what makes people tick. She is fascinated by the big questions - at 17 years old. And I am fascinated by her. Since she was born, I've watched her come to the edge of the next horizon in her life; watched her get uncomfortable in the "old skin" she was in so to speak, and ready to leap forward. She seems to be doing this now. She's looking out over the cliffs of junior year in high school and seeing a big, wide world out there with choices like gap years and college, working and nursing school and wwoofing programs. I am watching her get ready. She becomes more beautiful with every stage.

Who's up at 5 with me to start the week?

This crazy comment was texted to my blog from my phone - yeah baby - at 11 pm last night. "Crazy" because I knew I'd feel obligated to get my ass out of bed if I did that. And it worked. And, it worked in another way too. I heard from some, I must say, extremely cool facebook friends who let me know they were up at 4:14 and 4:30 and other nutty times of day (I call that nighttime actually). It was very nice to know they were up and we were up together. I don't know why, but I need that. I need to know people are with me, even when they are miles and miles away.

Another funny thing happened on my 5 a.m. jaunt through to the gym. I have been taking a short cut that goes a tiny bit through the woods. I haven't been taking a flashlight - but today I did (a teeny weeny one). Wouldn't you know, today is the day I almost tripped, not once, but twice. Turns out, I seem to navigate better when I'm relying on myself more, going by feel. Sort of like the blood hound thing from my last post. I'm just sayin'....there's a message there.

Now I'm 51...

And...I will write everyday. Everyday. A discipline. Something, nothing, it doesn't matter. Just write.

I did make it through the year of 50. And now, I'm in my 50's. It was a rich year for sure. There was heartache and fear, there was joy and hope. There was more of finding out who the hell I am - and what the hell I'm supposed to be doing. Just glimpses - no answers (unless I just am too blind to see - yes, that's certainly it). So, I'll continue to try to see. At work, if I could just find those bloody transparency goggles, and outside of work, if I could just start to look around and listen.

I continue to follow my nose like a blood hound. And I think I'm beginning to settle into this way of living. If you have a good nose, you should trust it, right? Follow the scents and go with it. It is a very serendipitous way to live which I kind of enjoy, when I'm not busy being neurotic about it. It does present it's own kind of anxiety. Not really knowing what the plan is can leave you feeling uncertain. This kind of living require a lot of faith. I have been fortunate enough to have had a good dose of necessarily living with faith during the last decade in particular, and I hope it has served me well.

I follow my nose in love as well, both literally and figuratively I might add. This requires faith, but unfortunately, this is a category where I try to exert some sort of control. I am constantly having to erase the lines of the box I try to fit love and companionship in to. It seems so silly since I am well aware that the boxes are confining and suffocating. The relationship boxes we have constructed here in Greensboro, Guilford County, NC, Southeastern U.S., USA, Northern Hemisphere seem so limiting. So I keep trying to at least bend the box edges, or make them permeable. I keep trying to imagine what I really would like, and then try to live with intention towards that, but at the same time I try to remain open to other possibilities. I mostly today think I am one lucky dog to have found myself in the deep dirt with another person who is also wrestling there with purpose and meaning, loving and giving - another person who is trying to honor having been given a life in the first place. One lucky dog.

Speaking of dogs, I am coming to terms with the fact that I live in a pack of them. They stay quiet, but their energy is loud! I always wanted this - I envisioned it years ago and now here I am. Maybe another blog post about that soon. (See, there's no lack of writing topics!)

Lastly this morning, I cannot stop thinking about being with dear friends Mel and Beth in Black Mountain last weekend. I trekked up for my birthday weekend - basically inviting myself over. As always, they embraced me. I think they understand that my "nose" leads me to them at important moments (a la birthday weekend). I think they also know that I get so filled up from basking in their presence, and in the presence of the life they've made together, particularly in their home. There's an energy there, between them and in that place, that is life affirming and life giving. It feels reminiscent of something before and something after for me. Their energy as a couple and as individuals feels related to my own intention. It's palpable, and makes me tearful. Oh, and I'm realizing just now that all of this is similar to my relationship with Wyoming. I'm reminded of what someone once told me after I described being in Wyoming. He said "Wyoming is your intention." I'm not sure what that means exactly. But I want to discover the meaning.

So like the blood hound gal, I followed my nose to these pages once again. Not since June have I been here. The trail I was following formerly led me to thinking about writing here so I could, albeit timidly, give access to this randomness of thought to my dear friends. Perhaps I haven't been brave enough to continue, or disciplined enough. Perhaps I've let self doubt and sadness get in the way of the process. But nevertheless, here I am today, and I feel as if I could write for several more hours!
Maybe there is more to come.