Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Wind Up Here

The name of a toy store I once knew. Combined with “How the fuck did I” it’s an apt description of my current situation. Today I awoke with a heavy heart because I’m suddenly aware, after nearly a year of fog veil, that my life once again is not right, I need not only to change myself within my own life but also to change the people who are in my life. I’ve got to be nurtured, I’m still too much a young soul to be tortured and tainted by insidious forces that I can easily manage.

Advertisements

To all the boys who came before the one who snores beside me now, I wish I could be everywhere at once so I could see you each, fast forwarded to this point in time. Every one of you has given me so much and shaped the way I grow and change. Some more than others, but I’m finding out that you each contributed greatly to this life, leading me places I might never have sought without your influences.
Sometimes I miss someone’s sweet smile, or the environment that surrounded us as a couple…restaurants we frequented, friends we shared, discussions and explorations unique to each of our particular places in time that can never be captured, but comes to me in a flash and brings shiny water to threaten a waterfall from my eyes…
I thank you…
Still the same girl you all once knew, with a piece of each one of you.

thank you jewish god

i love the jewish god and the jewish god loves me

long lost friend

seems like it’s been a long time, my old friend. though now you are a keyboard and not a pen.

there have been many changes and many moons since we have met. but i still feel you gleaming through my fingertips. no matter what happens, you always have been with me. and I know I can find you on the darkest night if only I remember to look for you, to listen for your voice of light.

thank you for filling me with your worlds of kindness, though I do my best to cast it back out it seems I’ve come into some shadows. feeling lonesome as the night wears through, lonesome all day long too. almost a song but its tune won’t be caught. the sadness etched upon my face is starting to web it’s way across like tiny lines of age. seems like only yesterday but we all know how that goes, yesterday is impossible to trap and tomorrow never knows, that’s for sure and is a truth. sad to say there aren’t many others people seem to live by these days, these times, these (laughing as I think this) godforsaken ways.

truth is rather hard to find and usually it’s just someone’s version of it anyway. feeling shades of blue it’s not new but in this way it is the worst way I’ve seen me. Almost detached from everyone and everything, I barely even heard your siren sing.

I’ve been sleeping in my life for many long years and suddenly all I feel behind my eyes and every breath is just the wanting to weep the tears that are holding back just by a tiny thread, I’ll take up the needle and sew the rest of this tapestry with the red thread, from my blood, the blood of the people of wisdom who have come before me and reside within and beside me to give me insight and strength in these times of bleakness where my morals and very being seem to be sifting in endless sands of confusion and loss of the way.

I have lost my way and I am floundering. I am losing myself in a battle because I have forgotten what makes my heart sing. Haven’t seen a mountain in an eon. Wishing I could just float away on my umbrella when the winds change. Like Mary Poppins with a spoonful of sugar and a smile, a song on her lips at every occasion. Ridiculous? I love to laugh! I wish there were the endless times of laughter now, but this here nanny is singing a sad tune tonight.

My troubles and woes are nothing to the problems out there, it’s true. But to me, trapped in my one shot, my one chance at life LIFE my LIFE goddammit the way I want to live and love and be, I’m not going to just let it get the best of me and lay down as a victim as I struggle on blindly. My life is such a gift and a blessing when I remember the wisdom of the poets, visionaries, and saints that have dappled my life with their fleeting and precious gems.I have to remember and be the spring and the seed, the light and the leaf.

And when I catch a glimpse, recognize and lift up my spirit! The golden shine of the sunlight catching across the marsh along Crosswicks Creek, that foggy mist that I see rising and reminds me that I exist.

(thank you thank you thank you)

love,

Stacy

Just because there is nothing like breathing. Hearing birds. Watching the sun slowly start to melt away the shadows and lift the fog off the dewy world. Feeling the warmth of your loved ones while they are still sleeping, listening to them breathe the gift of life. Just because to wake each day is nothing short of the miracle many are still searching for. Live your life, live your life, live your life.

I know there is still something that I need to share with this world before I depart it, and even through the times of turmoil I always keep the happiness of life carefully protected and only reveal the glimpses that are needed to make it through the pain, but I wish I could just let it out and lighten up the world with it’s full intensity. Maybe one day I will figure it out.

Just love these random morning moments I try to keep them close. Its hard not to wake Diego up when I start banging on the keyboard though!!

Woke up super early because I fell asleep super early. Thinking about all the sadness surrounding death lately, it’s coming toward me in waves lapping and overlapping in concentric circles getting closer and closer with each new day. Yet here in the midst of the lonely places that terrify my soul and keep me from falling back asleep at three am, I notice no small miracle to muse, but a marvel.

I’m awake.

I’m alive, my essence is still breathing the life force. Bring it on, bring it all on. My petty little life still unravels for some unknown reason.

I have the clearest memory of my first seed of doubt, right in the synagogue, in front of the whole writhing, singing, davening pack. Looking around me in wonder at the rapt faces that were feeling some type of way about their experience, it was a moment stopped in time for me, saturated in color to the point of no color.

I looked at the praying mob and I looked up at the rabbi on the bimah and I looked up at the round walls of the temple’s sanctuary through the stained glass, up to the heavens and I felt it so clear–what if they are all praying to nothing?

I really couldn’t relate to the unity I was seeing with this singing and swaying bunch, the same people who would soon be greedily scarfing down the goodies at the Kaddish following the service, driving their luxury vehicles out of the lot and cursing one another in the parking lot, and more than likely off to the bar mitzvah party being held in an ostentatious and ungapatchka way, driving by dozens of million dollar homes along the lakefront in this affluent suburbia, afflicted would be a better word to describe it. So what kind of god creates these type of creatures? With the gamut of human depths and capabilities for good and its bipolar cousin evil, what would be the purpose?

The only one that ever made me hesitate was the one that says “god made man because he loves stories” by Elie Wiesel, it’s the only thing that can explain it. But come on, to think we are termite pets of a bored and lonely god who would allow his playthings to do atrocities, to suffer great sorrows, to puzzle and ponder over the endless questions of existence that so baffle the mind? I recorded my brilliant son Diego speaking about some of his questions he has about the beginning of life, such as who was the first person (had to be a woman, mom, because there wouldn’t be anyone else if the first person was a man) and he quite strongly has belief in god which I don’t know where it comes from.

Definitely not from me, I am spiritual but not a believer. I listened to Maurice Sendak describe his relationship with Judaism and it fit mine to a t! It was funny how many things he said that sounded as if I had thought them. http://www.npr.org/2012/05/08/152248901/fresh-air-remembers-author-maurice-sendak

And losing him this week was something tragic to me; on the heels of MCA and then the sudden tragic death of a neighborhood institution over on my old block, a dude who just had a way about him I’ll never forget, it’s all been sad but now hearing this crazy bullshit about my uncle is just so terrible, it’s personal this time, deaths coming knocking. They gave him a week. A week to live and he’s stuck in the hospital and so sick and weak he’s not himself. Poor MCA was like that with the cancer too…what kind of god comes up with shit like cancer for fucks sake anyway?
So no, I’m not about to believe in a better plan or an afterlife for these fine people the world is losing, and my heart goes out to survivors everywhere who weather the storms of life’s deaths. I watched my grandfather spend his whole life feeling guilty for having one when his family all perished; he didn’t see how amazing it is just to see the beauty in the madness of it all. I’ve seen these magnified pictures of grains of sand and they are mind blowing.

http://discovermagazine.com/photos/01-each-grain-of-sand-a-tiny-work-of-art

 

20120511-035326.jpg

 

and if you want to see something that I think is hilarious, my son reading the beginning of Where the Wild Things Are can be found here: