Thursday 13: Today Plus Mish Mash

.

I haven't done a Thursday 13 in a long time. I used to do one regularly, and I liked it. So here's today plus a random thought or two:

.

.

1.

JB and I drove a long hour today in support of our weight.

I want my body back.

(I've cheated the first two weeks of vacation)

I want to look like Marianne. :)

.

It is hard to lose weight,

to get in shape and stay there.

.

I am working on it.

.

(Even though I cheated).

.

This lunch was good.

.

.

2.

.

This birthday cake was in honor of Studio Lolo (lo to me),

myself, and Mim in absentia. I have never shared

my birthday with friends before, and I like it.

.

.

3.

.

This house was just painted, pretty much all

one color. What a difference paint makes.

.

This is important to know, don't you think?

.

.4.

.

I want this in my yard....
.

.

5.

.

Today was the annual carnival parade

in Provincetown. About 50,000

people came for it.

.

.The theme this year was

jungle or tropical.

This guy is a lemon tree.

JB and I planned to see the parade.

It is fun and outrageous.

But we stayed late at the beach

and then fell into the red couch.

So we missed the parade on purpose.

We were surprised we decided that!
.
.

6.

.We walked down to Commercial Street

after dinner and there were plenty

of costumes still enjoying themselves
.
.

7.

There they were:

three babies and one father

,

8.

I dunked and bobbed in the ocean today.

It is cold, but once I'm in it's so refreshing.

Normally I would have a good tan by now,

but I've been writing and socializing

and I love spending my days that way too.
.
.

9.

.

Stella likes it here. She gets more frequent walks

and she can't stop sniffing.

(This year Ptown was voted the most dog friendly

place in America)
.

She came to the beach with us today,

for the first time,

lay in the shade under an umbrella.

We forgot to bring water for her.

JB was on her way to get back in the car

to get some when

and a kind woman and man

offered us theirs.
.
,

10.

.

I can't take a good picture of myself

to save my life. Plus how do I WANT to look?

I am actively losing weight, none to soon.

I want to look fashionably cool.

I prefer it seem like my own style.

Right now I don't enjoy buying clothes.

And I want to.

I don't know how long it will take

for me to reach three important weight goals.

.

1. I want to be able to tuck in my shirts and blouses.

2. I want nice legs again.

.

3. It's private, and I really really want it. :)

.

11.

.

This is the walkway to our condo.

It's one of three made from

dividing a house that

was once a convent

for Cuban Nuns.

Honest to God.
.
,

12.

.

I love women.

Of all ages.

I love their wisdom.

And gutsiness.

Partners, friends. acquaintances,

strangers, movie stars.

.

I'm glad that so many wonderful

women are in my life.

.
.

13.

.

I love sitting outside

at a table

and sipping cappuccinos.

One day, along with JB,

I want to spend three months

in Italy,

sipping cappuccinos outside,

writing,

and eating.

.

So I end where I starting: food and eating. Please root for me. I want my body back. I want to love the way I look. I even want to be able to post one g.d. photo of myself that I think looks terrific. .

Anybody else interested in doing a Thursday 13?

They're pretty interesting to do.

.

Love

kj

Thoughts on a New Day

This weekend I had a reason and opportunity to look back my first 12 months of blog posts. I was reviewing the poems I've written to choose one for an upcoming and wonderful collaborative project. It's been just about a year since I began this blog and just about a year since I took my first writing workshop. It's been just about a year that I became aware of deep love and starting living that way.

I am surprised at the change in me. In one form or another, I've always been a glass-half-full optimist. I can remember sitting in first grade smiling at my secret knowledge that the world was a friendly place and I would be able to find my way in it.

I remember being slightly surprised that I was voted "personality plus" in my high school graduating class of 660 kids.

I remember moving to Germany and landing the one coveted job I had no business applying for.

I remember when I started my counseling and consulting business. I knew I would succeed and I never doubted it was just about the best job in the world.

I remember how cool I was when I married this handsome guy with a college degree and together we bought this sweet small house on a half acre of land in this beautiful coastal community.

I remember the depths of love raising my spunky daughter and the first time I knew without question that I would willingly and easily die for her.

Over the years I have been extremely fortunate. I am surrounded by good decent creative talented people. I have a good good life. I am loved.

When I started this blog, I wanted to achieve some blend of wisdom, optimism, and inspiration. Who better than me, the beneficiary of so many good breaks and opportunities, to talk about life and love?

But, as I re-read my posts this weekend, I can see that something has changed. It is still me. I still laugh and appreciate and look and hope for the best. I still walk my dog and write my books and poems and relish the chance to eat a pizza by myself. But within me something new has taken root. It is deep and real and it makes me the same way. I am a more authentic person. My ego doesn't do battle so often anymore, and when I give my word I know I can keep it. There are now a handful of people I love so much I am standing in front of a moving train to protect them.

All this sounds good--all the positive growth I've hoped for when I think of the person I want to be. But my transformation is not what I expected.

For one thing, I cry more often. I can tell straight off that deep love is not all it's cracked up to be. The more I love, the more it depletes me. I can more easily give of myself, but sometimes I need to plan for the aftershock , when I will be wiped, or sad, or afraid in a way I haven't known before. Sometimes I have to digest that my needs are secondary because the needs of someone I love matters more. The worse change is that I now love at a distance and that means I have to live without the benefit of proximity and spontaneity.

Sometimes I cry because I know I will spend too many days adjusting to what is nothing short of longing. Sometimes I cry because I know and accept that while there are no limits to love, there are limits to when and where and how it can be shared. There are limits to the way the world is and the way the world works.

For another thing, I see misfortune around me and as always I am mobilized to want to act against it. I have been in the helping profession most of my adult life. I have been able to reach out and help out without internalizing the pain I see. I'm particularly good in a crisis. I'm a good counselor. But lately I've come to know that, every day, I know less and less--not more and more. And ask me how to deal with the sorrow and threat that has befallen the planet these days and I am at a loss.

I've noticed my recent posts lack the hopeful exuberance of my early ones. In some ways I am weightier, not lighter. And in other ways I am more serious, not sillier. I did not expect this.

This is not a final chapter. I am not feeling sorry for myself, and I would not change one thing. I still believe that most of us are good people doing our best. I believe our best is enough. It's just that I have begun to live differently. I am just now understanding that people and circumstance have changed me and the change is now part of who I am. It will affect who I become. I hope I become a better writer because of it. But most of all I hope I become a better person. That means, unfortunately, that I still have a long way to go and alot left to learn. It means I have become vulnerable. I can be hurt, because I've knowingly forfeited some of my protection.

And it means that at least a chunk of my learning is loving in a way that I willingly accept what is possible and what is not. Acceptance. There's my word of the year so far. Acceptance. If I really get what it means to live from a place of acceptance, how then shall I live?