Joy

Joanna smiled as the sound of laughter radiated down the hallway and into her room; she tried to remember the last time she had heard this kind of spontaneous, unpracticed joy and was both shocked and saddened to realize that nothing came to mind. How had she allowed her life to become so barren, so empty of the things that made her heart the happiest? When had she become content with the status quo and more willing to exist than to live? When had making the perfect salad become more of a priority than dancing in the rain? When had getting dressed for him become more important than wearing her favorite sneakers?

She shook the questions from her head and headed toward the source of the laughter, the smile easing its way across her face, awakening the twinkle in her eye.

Good Enough

Too much or too little? Where the hell does one find just enough? From the time we enter toddlerhood, we're taught that there is too big ... accompanied by too small and the elusive just right. After all, Goldilocks ... that silly little twit ... found it, so it must be real. Why is it that as adults in the twenty-first century, we continue to blindly grasp for its intangible perfection, always clutching at air. When is 'good enough' ... well ... good enough?

Pieces of Real

Pieces of real scattered the landscape of her days, jumbled among the lies, fantasies and imaginings he fed her. They were the moments when she knew with peace-shattering clarity the glaring truth of the matter. Those were the stabbing glimpses of authenticity when she knew without doubt that he did not ... and would never ... love her as she loved him. Then came the salvation of the blessed oblivion of the make-believe, the warm cocoon of habit and routine, cloaked in the comforting shroud of denial. She made the bed, descended the stairs, started the coffee and pretended it was real when he kissed her and said "Good morning, Baby".

Then when he told her of the upcoming business trip, she smiled and pretended that was real, too.

Forks In The Road

I spent hours on the back porch with my grandmother – sipping iced tea, sweet and cold – listening to the stories of the child I had once been and the adventures I had embarked upon. I heard of the fearlessness of a young girl full of determination and courage, tales accompanied by the backdrop of cricket song and cicadas humming in the summer evenings. I saw myself through the eyes of another – eyes wiser and richer than my own with memories and perspectives lost to me. Hours were spent poring over photographs in the school yearbooks, revisiting the years filled with teen angst and insecurity … remembering the dreams, the hopes, the possibilities and the magical sense of invincibility. Each story, each photograph, each memory brought not only recollection, but unexplored avenues – each full of opportunities to spread my wings and fly. I began to see not only the woman I was at my very core, but also the woman who could have been had any other forks in the road been chosen; I began to see the woman who could yet be.

Slumber

Lost somewhere between sleep and waking, she turned toward the weight newly settled on the far side of the bed, reaching out a hand toward the warmth she knew would be there. His mere presence brought with it the security needed for her release into that place of absolute rest and escape. She scooted close, settling into the crrok of an arm that fit her shape perfectly. For hours she had listened for the sound of the garage, the door, the rattle of keys, the whisper of quiet footsteps as he attempted to make no sound. Little did he know that sleep had eluded her as she waited for his return, dozing only to find herself awake again, jarred into the moment by the absence of her other half. Now, with that gentle touch, her eyes closed in total peace as slumber carried her away.

Then and Now

The rain had eased, but the gray skies still echoed with the darkness in her heart. She worked her way down the street crowded with parked cars and veered right at the first intersection. When she was eight, that intersection had been the boundary point, her mother reminding her to go not one step past the stop sign there. When she was ten, it had been the meeting spot for sleep-overs at Mandy’s house; the girls would meet at the halfway point and then walk giggling back to the house that was the evening’s destination. At thirteen, it was the marker between before and after. Then her world had been so orderly and full and abundant, but now it was empty and dark and cold.

Every Night

He watched her waltzing entry to the room, the sway of her hips making the black silk covering them whisper of forbidden secrets. He knew the scent of her that wafted across the space to envelope him in the familiar … and the unknown … overwhelming his senses. The twinkle in her eye as she paused to charm the men in her path tripped his heartbeat into a faster tempo, forcing him to focus on the conversation with the client across from him. He saw her graceful tapered fingers rest briefly on the sleeve of the chairman’s tailored black jacket, taking his imagination to places best visited in private as he thought of other places those hands had wandered. And still he smiled and chatted and schmoozed and played his part to perfection.

After all, she’d be going home with him … just like she had every night for the last twenty years.

Meantime Living

Borrowed words today...

"Meantimers don't live in the here and now, they live in the there and now. 'In the meantime' is a defense. It's a way of hedging your bets and avoiding the very risks that often lead to personal growth. 'In the meantime' people almost always have big plans: to get in shape, to sign up for some classes, to quit their jobs, to start that novel, to change their lives. The present is trivialized; it's the future that matters. All of the things they're not happy with are just for now. These same meantimers believe they hold the reins of their destiny by keeping a full calender.

But more than anything, 'in the meantime' living is is motivated by fear. It may be the fear of dealing with an unhealthy relationship, the fear of being alone... but it's fear nonetheless. And that fear is preventing you from taking a needed step toward empowerment. Worse, that fear is keeping you in a state of limbo, and it's lowering the standards you're willing to tolerate.

Sometimes the 'there and now' isn't about the future, it's about the past and not being able to move on.

Imagine going through years of your life with the gut feeling that none of it really matters yet, that it will start at some point in the future, and that the present doesn't really count. Does this feeling seem familiar? Have you ever told yourself that everything will ultimately fall into place once you (fill in the blank, e.g., publish that book, lose ten pounds, meet a great person, get that promotion, buy that house, and so on?)? And who wouldn't want to convince themselves that at least some of the effort was worthwhile, that all of the energy you expended on whatever really did matter?

We can't live every moment like it's our last because doing so would make every moment too serious. So we do the opposite. We live lightly and frivolously, squandering our moments."

- Ian Kerner

The Moment

A wise person once said that we often don’t recognize the most important things at the moment they happen. That’s the way it was. Weeks later, when she was struck with the realization of what had transpired, the truth of it took her breath away. On that rainy Thursday afternoon, the moment after he walked away, she knew it was true. He had carried her heart for the longest time and she hadn’t even noticed. Only now, when it lay bruised and bleeding at her feet, did she realize she had given it and all the love it held away.

Chaos

I never believed in love at first sight - how can you possibly love someone when you don't even know them? I never even believed in love at second sight ... or third or fourth, for that matter. I always believed that you had to know someone for a while ... really know them ... before you could love them, until I was proven wrong.

I learned that you could love someone the moment your eyes met ... that there was something that wasn't logical or reasonable or even remotely safe that could grab hold of your heart and take your breath away. To say that I accepted it at face value would, of course, be a lie ... I fought it like a demon from hell. I tried to make it fit into a sensible box that would make order of the chaos running rampant through my heart. I tried to ignore it. I tried to laugh it off. I allowed fear to rule my life ... and in the end, that fear multiplied the chaos and gave birth to a broken heart.