Not Just Spending Time...

I think I've always known it but never really wanted to admit it out loud or acknowledge it even to myself.

After failing repeatedly at marriage and partnership parenting, I have to admit...it wasn't them, it was me. Did I say that out loud? I doubt I'd ever admit it to them because, well, I just wouldn't.

My close friends know that all I ever really wanted was to be a parent. More than I wanted to be anything else. Of course, I would never be that girl who traps a guy into it but when the opportunity presented itself, I did become a parent. And, by default, I became a wife as well. I was excited to be embarking on this whole "family" thing I saw others doing. Only, I would do it without the crap that comes along with it, of course! If it lasted a while that was a total bonus. But, I didn't really think it would. As hard as that is to say, I didn't. But, hey, I'll give it try and see what happens, I thought. I know, I know...wrong.

Somehow it dawned on me recently that, after spending days that have accumulated into years, it really was me. Spending time with someone and being a wife was a nice security, too. But, when it became more difficult than I was willing to accept, I cut bait and moved on to the next catch.

I heard Warren Buffett, of whom I am in awe, say that success is first based on who you marry. If you don't have the right partner, nothing else will be right either. Or, something to that effect, anyway. I realize that statement was probably already thought of by everyone else but me. And, he was right on it. No matter what you do, you have to do it with someone and it should be with the "right" someone. I always wanted to just do things and didn't lend nearly as much consideration to whom it was I was doing those things with as long as my selfish needs were met.

The other day it hit me again that it's not about spending time with someone, it's about spending a lifetime with someone. Be it your best friend or your spouse. And, if you're lucky that someone will be both.

I'm going slowly but I'm getting there...

C.

Finding the Courage ~ by James Kavanaugh

Finding the courage to face some buried anxiety
as real as snakes and grizzly bears in an uncharted wilderness,
struggling in vain to recall a child's overpowering fear
still rooted deeply in my flesh
and, seemingly as impermeable as granite rocks.

When was that terrifying moment
that has left its shadows till now?

What was the dagger that carved a scar
never to be erased?

Was I seven or seventeen, infant or fragile adolescent?

Vainly I recall every angry, hurtful voice of childhood,
every silent attack of parent or peer, teacher or coach.

Who wounded me when my bones were too brittle
to bear the weight?
When my mind was too timid and unformed
to fight back?

How can I battle this elusive Hydra
with its hybrid and devouring teeth?

Will I carry the last of this struggle
to my grave?

Will it reappear to torture me at the very end?

Or, will the sun finally rise some glorious morning
and the roots of an ancient fear dissolve
like the disappearing night?

From the book Laughing Down Lonely Canyons

Oh, Sarah Palin...Where Do I Begin??

Sarah Palin's paid speech at the Tea Party Convention this evening clearly showed the Sarah that I've grown to love. Yes, it's out there. I've said it "I LOVE SARAH PALIN!!". So there!

I love her for reminding me that even if I sit in silence on a Friday evening without my hair done or my outfit perfectly tailored, I am reminded that my presence on this couch serves this country and makes sense in more ways than Mrs. Palin could ever muster up. And, the plus side is that I won't request a $150,000 payment to do it!

I love you Sarah! You sure are purdy!

C.

If I Knew Then, What I Know Now...

Among other things, if I knew then what I know now...

~ I would've been better to myself, been less self-depricating, and embraced the best and the worst of me.

~ I would've known that no measure of self-protection could keep me safe from my own self-destruction.

~ I would've known that even if it means scraping up the pieces of my shattered life, I need each one of those pieces to be whole. And, if I move forward, leaving even a single piece behind, I'll be searching for it my whole life.

~ I would've known that, good and bad, everything counts. I will ultimately, face the consequences or the benefits immediately and directly or by way of some winding, random path.

~ I would've known to disengage from hurtful people because even the pleasure they derive from my pain will never keep them happy.

~ I would've known that nothing could possibly fill this incredibly enormous void created by the selfishness of others.

~ I would've known that contorting myself to fit into someone else's perception of who I should be would never serve me well, as I am the one burdened with this disfigured soul.

~ I would've known that each moment doesn't need to be a milestone, rather a place, of which I am ever-present.


C.

Have You Heard This One?

I'm not a good joke teller but I'm going to give it a try. Here goes...

A girl walks into a relationship with a smile.

The guy says to her "What would you say if I promise that I'll always take care of us?"

The girl, still smiling, chuckles nervously and replies "Well, I'd believe you, of course!".

The guy, putting his hand on hers, slyly smiles back.

....get it?? It's a joke! The relationship ~ everything! He NEVER takes care of them like he promised, it's all a f*@*king joke!


C.

I'm Gonna Sit Here ~ by James Kavanaugh

I'm gonna sit here
till passion returns
and tells me where to go.

I don't care if it's heaven
or hell or home,

I don't care if it's work
or play or sex,

I don't care if it's rich
or poor or madness,

I don't even care
if it's riding a horse naked on a freeway
or lining up like we did as kids
for a pissing contest in the old schoolyard.

I'm not going anywhere
-even to death-
until I can go passionately.

from the book Laughing Down Lonely Canyons

I Don't Know Why ~ by James Kavanaugh

I don't know why it bothers me
but in the midst of the most poignant news,
of the shooting of a President or Pope,
or an earthquake in South America,

There is a commercial somewhere selling soap or cereal,
promising luxury or peace of mind,
or an end to all offensive odors,
except commercials.

And, from time to time,
when I wonder about my own demise,
I know that at the very moment of my passing,
even as the word is circulated among my friends,

I will be eulogized somewhere
by an improved tomato sauce
or whiter teeth.

~ from the book Maybe If I Loved You More

Dr. James Kavanaugh ~

I am so deeply saddened over the death of James Kavanaugh, with whom I have never met face to face. Strangely, I felt a connection to him as if he just "got" me. His books have truly grounded me during some of the most tumultuous times in my life when I was completely lost and just couldn't find my way.

To explain it, well...I can't. I just appreciate his words, beyond any reasoning or explanation. And, while I am sad that the opportunity has been lost to have a conversation with him or give thanks to him personally for understanding me, if only by default in understanding himself, I am inspired to live my life out loud even when no one's listening. I am inspired to do this life with passion and, in turn, inspire others to do the same.

But, because I haven't gotten to the point that I understand what it is about myself that would inspire others, I will defer to the words of Mr. Kavanaugh and post a writing of his as often as I can so that others may get some of his insight. Well, that and his books are out of print.

Richochet

I feel as if I just richochet in this labyrinth of my so-called life.

Not going forward or backward with any consistency, just hitting walls. My approach has no influence. Walking patiently or running fiercely, it doesn't matter. I richochet.

I can wave and say "Hello" to passersby or flip them off with a snarl, I still richochet.

I can be compassionate and kind or a bitch of the grandest kind, no matter.

I need some of that richochet momentum to push me forward, away from this stagnant, stale environment.

But, maybe richocheting is better than the alternative. Like when you get that pinball out of that tippy-top part of the machine and it comes straight down and through the paddles, completely passing you by. Not even a chance to get it, game over.

C.

I Feel Sad ~ by James Kavanaugh

I feel sad about my country lately,
when damn near everyone I know thinks it's okay
to take money away from the disabled and the old,
As long as we increase military spending
and are certain beyond all paranoia
that we can take Russia out faster and more completely
than Russia can take us out.

My buddy Danny tells me that we're getting rid of the freeloaders
And, I know damn well he doesn't mean the rich people
who invest in feed lots they don't see or want,
or get oil and mineral and agricultural allowances
they don't need or deserve.

I confess, I've occasionally wondered about
some of the people I see with food stamps,
and I suppose I've bitched my share about welfare.
But, I do notice that the most expensive restaurants
are still crowded,
that the Mercedes are as common as VW's once were,
that Fifth Avenue and Rodeo Drive seem as active as ever,
while the aged and the poor seem shabbier and more defeated
than I've ever seen them in my lifetime,
far too intimidated and nervous even to whisper of revolution.

I feel sad about my country lately because it lost it's morals
somewhere between Korea and Watergate.
And, lost it's heart somewhere between this recession and the last.

Now strangers buy our banks and the immigrants our fast foods.
And, we take any dollar or ruble we can get
to satisfy an appetite as insatiable as the fear that creates it.
Content to build cheap barracks and call them homes,
content to widen the massive gulf between rich and poor,
content above all to defend a country
with the expensive nuclear trinkets of a paranoia
bred of greed and fear and most unmanly men.

I never knew a brave nation could be so reprehensible,
that a dollar could mean so much or a life so little...
and I'm very sad.

From the book Maybe If I Loved You More
Written by James Kavanaugh 1982
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